


As I Walk

by Siamese_and_Cookies



Series: Psalm 23:4 [1]
Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Earl Whitehorse is a Good Dad, Fluff, Friendship is Magic, Jacob is an ass, John is a sad kid, Joseph is a sad kid, Mild Language, No one is their canonical age, Off-screen abuse, Rook tries her best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:55:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24027748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siamese_and_Cookies/pseuds/Siamese_and_Cookies
Summary: When Eleanor Rook and her family moved to their new neighbourhood, she never expected to become friendly with the sad, blue-eyed boys down the street. Until one day one of them literally crashes straight into her and an unlikely friendship blossoms.But something isn't right about that family. Eleanor ignores it, until one day she can't.(Part 1 of 3)
Relationships: Female Deputy | Judge & Jacob Seed, Female Deputy | Judge & John Seed, Female Deputy | Judge & Joseph Seed
Series: Psalm 23:4 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1733287
Comments: 42
Kudos: 77





	1. Making Friends is Easy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So guess who fell into Far Cry hell? I hate it. But I refuse to leave.
> 
> Childhood friends is my favourite AU and I can't believe I haven't found any for these guys. So naturally I made one myself. I hope you guys enjoy reading it, because I had a lot of fun writing it!
> 
> Just for reference, Rook is about 14, John is 8, Joseph is 16 and Jacob is like 19-20. Like it says on the tin: none of them are the right ages.
> 
> Also, I had been reading a lot of fics for these guys and that's where I saw someone had named their Deputy Eleanor and I just loved that name for her, so that's what I went with!
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

"Ellie!" Her mother called, "Turn off that racket and come down! I've been calling you for five minutes!"

Eleanor huffed out a breath, dropping the clothes she had been about to fold away and pushed the off button on her cassette player. Her father's cassette player, but he never _really_ minded (or noticed) when she used it. Especially since her Walkman had broken when she had been practising a stunt involving a tree and absolutely no safety equipment. Her ankle still hurt, despite how much her mother assured her she was being ridiculous. That had been three months back and she still hadn't saved up enough to buy a new one, so her father's old cassette player was under her monopoly. 

"Coming!" she called back, startling herself when her voice bounced through the near empty house.

The new house they had moved into was a lot larger than their old one back in Chicago had been. First, there were two floors and secondly they had a yard - two of them! In the front and the back. It probably actually wasn't even too big, but for a girl who had only known a two-bedroom flat in downtown Chicago, it was palatial. It had been newly renovated and the house still smelt strongly of paint and the new wooden floorboards creaked under her weight.

Eleanor passed by the long hallway towards the flight of stairs, taking them two at a time, she landed heavily at the bottom, only just maintaining her balance at the last moment.

"Be careful, Eleanor - you're going to get yourself hurt again! I won't let you go to your new school in a cast, young lady, so please act less like an animal and more like a person."

"I'm fine, I'm fine! Anyway, why were you calling me?"

"Right, I have to get to work on dinner, can you take these cookies and go down to Number 45? I gave everyone sweets except them and it would look awful."

"Do I have to right now? I was putting my clothes away."

"Yes, right now while there's still light out. You can come back home and fold them, stop dwadling."

"I still haven't gotten my school things ready!"

"You haven't - _Eleanor_! I told you to do that before we left Chicago! No, never mind, don't try to wriggle out of this. Take these cookies first and when you get back you can deal with everything else. Honestly, I feel like you don't even listen to a word I have to say-"

Eager to avoid getting lectured any further, Eleanor quickly went back up to her room and grabbed her sneakers. They were a bit beaten up and the leather was getting worn, but it only showed how much she loved them. Shoes on and hair in a quick ponytail, Eleanor grabbed the tray of cookies and was out the door while her mother was half-way through a new tirade about how she 'wished Eleanor was more responsible'.

It was warm for October, but Eleanor supposed, that was normal considering how much further south they were. Back in Chicago, she would probably be wearing a light sweater and bothering her mother for hot chocolate. As it was, she was in a long-sleeved t-shirt and wondering if perhaps that was a touch excessive.

The houses on their street were almost identical, the only difference was the type and colour of car that were parked outside. The lawns were all well maintained to an upsetting degree and any flora was trim and neat and unpretentious. Suburban life hadn't sounded very fun when her parents first told her about the move, and now that she was living on street 22, in a house that differed only by a few digits from the other houses, that fact was further driven home.

Children, all of them far younger than her, were playing in the early evening light. They didn't pay her too much mind as she made her way down the street, counting the houses as she went. Number 45 was about five blocks down the road - no wonder her mother didn't want to make the trek herself.

Number 45, when Eleanor finally arrived, her breathing a little laboured, was a fairly inconspicuous house. With the same porous walls and grey paint as the houses on either side of it. The lawn had been mowed recently, the grass clippings hadn't been cleaned up yet, and as Eleanor walked up the path to the front door, she could smell the wet earth of the freshly watered plants.

People in suburban areas loved their plants, her father had told her, their lawns and flowers mattered about as much to them as how the dressed for Sunday Church. Eleanor couldn't believe that wasn't a joke. It seemed her family would have a bit of trouble fitting in, seeing as none of them enjoyed gardening.

Number 45 had a fairly average doorbell sound too. A simple ' _ding dong_ ' that was so annoyingly plain. Suburbia was getting worse by the minute.

"One sec!" a voice, soft and childish, called from inside. A moment later, the metallic click of a deadbolt being pulled aside sounded and the door opened up. It was a kid. Eleanor blinked down at him and the kid blinked right back up, bright blue eyes catching her off-guard with how they seemed to peer into her soul.

"Uh," she began, "Where's your Mom?"

The kid shrugged, "Out."

"Are you home alone?"

He shook his head, "My big brother Joseph is here too."

"Well, could you maybe call him, please?"

The kid narrowed his eyes and turned his head to the side, yelling into the dark house for his brother. He didn't move from the front door and Eleanor shifted from one foot to the other as they waited. The cookies were still warm from the oven and the plate was getting too hot to hold.

Footsteps sounded and Eleanor spotted a guy a bit older than her walking down the staircase.

"John," he said, voice soft, "Why are you standing by the door?"

"She says she wants to talk to you."

"Me?" Joseph looked up at Eleanor, his eyes widening as if it was the first time he had seen another person, "D-do I know you?"

Geez, what was it with this family and piercing blue eyes? Weren't they super rare or something?

"No, you don't. We're new here. My Mom made cookies and asked me to bring them over. Uh, here," she shoved them at Joseph, wincing when one of the cookies almost fell off of the plate.

"That's very nice of y-"

"Well, I have to get going, bye!"

"Wait!" Joseph called, "Which house did you move into?"

"Oh, uh, Number 40. We're the Rooks."

"Rook. I'm Joseph Seed."

She nodded back, eager to escape and trying so very hard to not make it any more obvious, "Eleanor. Well, see you around I guess."

Eleanor did _not_ flee with her tail between her legs - that was absolutely _not_ what happened. Even if she could feel the weight of two pairs of blue eyes for the majority of her not-escape, she absolutely didn't pick up the pace.

**~ * ~**

"So," her father said as he cut into his roast beef, "How was your first day of school, Ellie?"

Eleanor pushed around her mushy, tasteless peas, wondering how she could get rid of them without having to actually _eat_ them. "Good, it was pretty good. met one of the kids from our street too. He's a senior of mine."

Joseph Seed had sent her a crooked smile from across the hallway and ran away before it could get anymore awkward.

"Is that so? That's good. I got assigned my partner today. His name is Earl Whitehorse. Nice guy, pretty young. From some small county in Montana apparently."

"Why did he move here then? Eleanor, stop playing with your food and eat it."

Her father hummed around a bite of food, "Same reason I did, I'd reckon. I can't think some mountain-side county in Montana is going to pay too well."

"Does he have a wife? Any kids?"

"I don't know, I didn't ask. Why? Want to invite them over for dinner already?" Her father teased, "The paint isn't even dry."

"He's your _partner_ , darling," her mother huffed, stabbing at a carrot with far more force than necessary, "Excuse me for wanting to know more about a man who will spend more time with you than your own wife."

Eleanor shot her father a worried look, mushy peas temporarily ignored, "Wait, you're still going to work all night long?"

"Not _all_ night. And not as often as before, don't worry. It's why I agreed to the transfer. I want to spend more time with you, Ell. And you too, honey, please don't slip anything into my coffee."

"You say the most _ridiculous_ things, George, _honestly_. And in front of Eleanor too!"

Her father laughed, deep and jovial, nudging Eleanor's leg with his own, "She knows it's a joke! And in case she doesn't - we are _madly_ in love, Ellie. Even if your mother nags and whines, I wouldn't have any other woman. Because she is the most intelligent, the kindest, the most beauti-"

"Ew," Eleanor shook her head, face scrunched up, "Okay, too much, dad!"

"My love for your mother knows no bounds!" He declared, all the while Eleanor's mother hid her face in her hands, her displeasure with the entire conversation palpable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did you like it? First chapters are my least favourite to write, but they're a necessary evil. 
> 
> Also I got the name Eleanor from another author (Dearly_Divided, whose works I love!) who named her Deputy that and I just thought it fit so well and I can't imagine Rook not being named Eleanor.


	2. All You Have to Do is Smack Into Them!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally part of the first chapter, but I thought that would make it far too large and instead I split it into two bite-sized pieces. Since that's going to be the trend for this first series - snippets of memories, if you will - I thought I might as well stick to it from the very beginning.
> 
> Anyway, please enjoy!
> 
> Very brief mentions of blood and needles.

The first week in their new home had finally come to an end. The paint was finally dry, all the furniture and decorations had found homes in the available space, Eleanor's room had become the chaotic mess it normally was and her mother had fallen back on her old habit of screaming her head off about it. Yes, everything was as it should be.

Only her mother had taken up _another_ hobby that consisted of nagging at Eleanor to make friends with the neighbourhood kids.

"I've got friends!" Eleanor protested, "Mary, Jennifer and Susan have all called me, we're even making plans to visit each other." 

"Yes," her mother replied drily, "I know. I have to have a talk with you about that, you're going to drive our phone bill up, young lady, and if you keep this up, the cost will come out of your pocket. Who talks for two hours straight? Don't you have better things to do? Like your homework?"

Eleanor ignored that last bit, "So the solution is to make friends with a bunch of bratty kids?"

"I'm sure there is _someone_ on our street who is your age, Eleanor."

"There isn't! They're all either way younger than me or way older."

"That's not possible. What about the boy from Number 45? What was his name? The Seed boy, the one in your school."

"Joseph?" She asked, crinkling her nose. Joseph was alright, he was just far too skittish. Like some sort of anxious rabbit with soul-searing eyes.

"Yes. Don't make that face, what about him?"

"Uh, I don't think he wants to be friends with me." She got the message after the _fifth_ time he saw her, smiled, and ran the other way. There was only so much blatant rejection one person could take.

"You can't know that. Fine, does he have any other siblings?"

"Yeah, a _younger_ brother. Who is a kid. Don't give me look! I'm not going to play with kids - they're boring and they cry all the time."

"Well, since there isn't _anyone_ else on the entire street who you _do_ want to become friends with, your options are fairly limited. I'm saying this for you own good, Eleanor. It isn't right to be alone, especially at your age. You need friends and before you say another word, you need friends _here_ , not three states away. I'm hoping you'll make lots of friends in school, but it wouldn't hurt to have someone from our street too."

Eleanor sighed, hoping the conversation would end if she gave in, "Fine. I'll keep it in mind and make an effort."

Her mother stroked her head, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. Her smile was soft and tired, but so heartwarming any annoyance Eleanor felt melted away.

"That's all I'm asking, sweetheart."

**~ * ~**

October was finally becoming chilly. Okay, that was a bit of an understatement considering they were halfway through the month, but the temperature was finally low enough that you could wear something over and not look ridiculous.

It was probably going to snow soon in Chicago - Eleanor made a note to ask Mary about it the next time they talked. It wouldn't snow a lot in her new home. Not if she was wearing the absolute thinnest sweater she owned during mid-October. It was a real shame too, Eleanor loved the snow. Some of her fondest memories involved snowball fights with her friends in the park followed by roasted marshmallows and hot chocolate. None of that would happen here.

Her father had said to 'make her own fun', but there wasn't much to _do_ 'here'. The school term had started a month back and everyone in her class either already knew each other or had already formed their own cliques. There was a trio of girls Eleanor was becoming friendly with, but they weren't nearly as funny or witty as her old group. Adjusting to a new home was going to be a lot harder than she thought.

Eleanor sighed to herself and plopped down on the edge of the sidewalk, setting her back down. She was a few blocks away from her house and there was plenty of light out still. She just needed a moment to herself. There was no doubt about it that as soon as Eleanor walked through the front door, her mother would hound her about the messy state her room was in - which was fair, and that made it all the worse.

There were quite a few kids out playing on their front lawns and on the street. Throwing footballs, playing hopscotch and jump-rope, and a little boy and girl were in a heated game of Cat's Cradle - both trying to twist the neon yellow thread faster than the other. Eleanor would have loved to join them had they been just five years older. Playing on the street had always been something she'd wanted to do but couldn't. Chicago's streets were far too busy to play in and apartment hallways were only so big and you were only allowed to make the bare minimum noise before the grouchy man from 505 would open his door and yell at you. Which wasn't fair at all because if you were having fun, you should be allowed to make the right volume of noise to go with it.

Maybe Eleanor could convince the trio of girls to play tag in school. 

Lost in her thoughts as she was, Eleanor didn't notice the little tennis ball rolling towards her or the kid running after it, begging it to stop, until the kid couldn't slow down and crashed right into her.

The side of Eleanor's head cracked against the harsh pavement. For a moment, she was stunned. And then the pain blossomed into something red-hot and angry. Her ears rang and her vision swam and all she could concentrate on was not throwing up. Somebody was speaking to her, their words slipping around until it was indecipherable to her. Something warm and sticky was slipping down her face, and when Eleanor touched it, her hand came away red.

Red meant... blood?

The ringing began to subside and her vision cleared but the pain only intensified.

"I'm so sorry!"

Eleanor jerked back from the force of the sound, startling the little boy in front of her. He was in tears, his big blue eyes wet and his face scrunched up.

"I-I'm so sorry," he blathered, quieter this time, sniffling loudly, "I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so-"

Eleanor tried to put her hand on his shoulder to get him to stop talking. Only she forgot it was her bloody hand. The boy leapt back before she could touch him, his face ashen. A small crowd of kids was starting to form. Great.

"Whoops," she murmured, blinking hard and fighting another wave of nausea, "I think you should call my Mom. House 501- no, wait, 40. Yeah, Number 40."

The boy - _why was he so familiar_ \- nodded his head fast and scrambled to his feet. His knees were a little scuffed but Eleanor had a feeling she might have taken the brunt of the fall for them. He ran down the street, ignoring the calls and questions of the other kids, almost tripping and falling over twice in his haste. The crowd of children, realising they wouldn't get anything from him, drew even closer towards her. Like sharks that had smelt blood. Kids were really frightening.

"Are you okay?" one of them asked.

"Did John Seed hurt you?"

_Ah, that's why he was so familiar_.

"I'm fine," Eleanor lied. She was _not_ fine and talking was making it worse. Her head was about to explode and it was taking every fibre in her being not to throw up in front of them.

The kids came impossibly closer, the youngest ones staring at her bloody face in macabre fascination while the slightly older ones cringed away. How much longer did she have to feel like a zoo attraction?

"Get out of the way, kids, please!" That was her mother's voice! The crowd parted like the Nile and suddenly her mother was kneeling in front of her, John close behind, holding the hem of his shirt tightly, eyebrows scrunched and mouth turned down in a frown, "Oh, Eleanor. What have you done now?"

"It was an accident," she grumbled, "'ts not like I _wanted_ this."

"I'll have to take you to a doctor, you might have a concussion. How are you feeling? Is your stomach alright? Do you want to throw up?"

Had it just been her and her mother, Eleanor would have been in tears, nodding her head and throwing up like she wanted to. Eleanor was not alone with her mother. Instead, there was an audience of about ten kids and a _very_ guilty looking John. The truth was the last thing she was going to consider. So instead, she allowed her pride to get the better of her, shook her head and immediately regretted it. Her mother clicked her tongue and hauled Eleanor to her feet, half-dragging her, half-carrying her, towards their house and their dark blue Camry.

"You can play hero some other time, we need to get you to the doctor quickly. Honestly, Ell, why can't you just be _careful_? Is that too much to ask? You're always throwing yourself off of trees and leaping down staircases and you _always_ get hurt. When will you learn your lesson, hmm? When all your bones are broken?"

Eleanor let out a loud moan, the movement was jostling her head and her stomach and _both_ were protesting violently to her treatment, "It was an accident! My head is really hurting, Mom."

"I thought you said you were fine. Looking tough for the neighbourhood kids were you? Well you can look tough when your brain _isn't_ leaking out of your skull."

Eleanor froze, digging her heels into the ground hard and almost toppling her mother over.

"M-my brain is-"

Her mother halted, blinking hard, "I'm _joking_! Goodness, that was in poor taste, sorry sweetheart, I forgot only your father can get away with things like this. I'm just - you don't look too good sweetheart and I'm a little scared but everything is going to be alright. You'll probably just need some stitches."

Her mother unlocked the car and helped Eleanor in before running back inside to get her things. The crowd of kids had long since dissipated, but they were still casting looks over at her from their respective front yards. She huffed out a breath and got herself comfortable.

"Are you going to die?"

Eleanor jolted. Turning to the side, she saw John standing there, he had her backpack in his hands and offered it to her through the open window. The fright on his face had lessened a bit. Poor kid, he really must have felt awful about it. She was surprised he hadn't run away already - she knew she would have done that had she been his age.

"I'll be fine, I've had worse!" Eleanor couldn't be sure how true that was. Maybe her brain _was_ leaking out of her skull.

"Promise?"

"Uh," what exactly was she supposed to say to that? "Sure?"

A switch went off and John relaxed instantly. His shoulders dropped and his expression wasn't as severe. The look in those baby-blue eyes was still murky, but it was leaps and bounds better than before. What a weird kid.

Her mother returned and Eleanor called an awkward goodbye to John. The car ride to the hospital was silent and when they reached, Eleanor was informed she'd need stitches. Shallow ones, and only about five of them, but they were going to be pretty prominent. 

She was lucky, her doctor said as he pushed the needle through her skin, it could have been much worse.

Eleanor left the hospital with a box of juice and some painkillers, her stitches - clean and white - sat like proud war medals on her forehead.

**~ * ~**

It was such a peaceful afternoon. The birds were chirping, the kids were playing and a light breeze had picked up, rustling the yellowing leaves of the trees. In a few more days, they;d be able to rake the leaves up. Leaf piles had been a novelty Eleanor had only seen on TV and the idea of being able to build one in her own backyard was exciting. Alright, maybe suburban life wasn't all _that_ bad.

Before she could indulge in her fantasies, she had to study. A big test was coming up and Eleanor wasn't about to make a fool out of herself. Studying wasn't her strongest suit, but it was one she put real effort into. Which was why she was sitting on her porch, enjoying the sunshine and sounds of her neighbourhood, sipping on a box of juice and learning the different types of rocks. Igneous, metamorphic and sedement-

"Does it hurt?"

Eleanor looked up from her textbook. John Seed was standing there, hands wringing together like some knock-off Oliver Twist. It was endearing though, his kicked-puppy look. Those baby blue eyes of his certainly helped him.

"Nope," she said, taking a healthy sip of her juice.

"Oh... I really am sorry."

Sensing that this conversation would go on for a bit, Eleanor slid a piece of paper into her textbook to mark her progress and closed it. Looks like she'd be studying science later.

"It's fine, it was an accident, wasn't it?" John nodded, "Then stop apologising. I look super cool with it anyway, so don't worry."

"Cool?" he asked, tilting his head to one side like a curious puppy.

Eleanor patted the spot next to her. He looked unsure for a second before joining her, careful to keep plenty of space between them.

"Alright, listen here, John. I'm about to tell you a secret, okay? And I want you to keep it to yourself."

His eyes widened comically and he nodded along.

"It's a _huge_ secret, alright? I only tell this to people I can trust. Think I can trust you?"

John leaned in closer, shaking his head with greater vigour, "Y-yeah! You can trust me!"

Eleanor cleared her throat and scanned her surroundings quickly to make sure her mother wasn't nearby, "Do you know what 'badass' means?"

He shook his head, unsure.

"Is it a bad word?"

"Yeah, sorta. Which is why you shouldn't use it. But what it means is this cut," she pointed at her stitches, a proud smile slipping onto her face, "Makes me look _badass_ "

"I think Jacob says that sometimes," John said, cocking his head to the side in thought.

"Jacob? Is he a friend of yours?"

"No, he's my older brother. He's away right now but he'll be home soon." John added, as an afterthought, "I don't have friends."

Er, well, what was Eleanor supposed to say to that?

"Why not?" she decided to settle on more questions, "There are loads of kids your age on our street. None of them want to play with you?"

He shook his head, "They're mean to me, they call me names."

"Well, in that case I'll be your friend."

The words had slipped out of her mouth before she even realised it. Maybe subconsciously, her mother's nagging was having an effect. Did that mean one day she would wake up and actually clean her room? The thought alone was frightening.

John whipped his head around so fast Eleanor was worried he might get whiplash.

"Really!" He exploded, leaning in closer, almost pressing his face up to hers, "You really mean that?"

"Yeah. Uh, back up a bit."

He did immediately, his eyes wide with wonder. As if she'd plucked a star out of the sky and given it to him all wrapped up in a bow. This kid was really adorable in a pathetic puppy kind of way.

"So can I call you, uhm," John trailed off, alarm flashing across his face when he failed to recall her name.

"Eleanor, you can call me Eleanor or Ell or Ellie or whatever you'd like. And I'll call you John."

"Really?" he asked again. God, his eyes were so big and blue and endlessly hopeful. Eleanor couldn't resist reaching out and ruffling his hair. John jerked away at that, surprising her. Okay, he could invade _her_ personal space but his was off-limits?

"Sorry about that. But yeah, we're going to be friends and friends call each other by their names."

"Does that mean you'll play with me?" he asked in a quiet voice.

"Yeah, that means I'll play with you."

"Promise?"

What was it with this kid and-

"Yeah," she said, smiling softly, "promise."

His smile outshone the sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There were so many ways I could have made them friends, I decided to go with this. Am I happy with it? Maybe not entirely, but it got the job done so now the _real_ fun can begin!


	3. Halloween Costumes, Police Chases and Awkward Dinners

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we go, part three! The amount of research I've been doing about the early 1990's must be making the FBI agent who goes through my internet really confused. Because I was born in the later half of the 1990's, and forgot when a lot of things even happened.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy!

"What are you going to be for Halloween?" 

John and Eleanor were sitting outside on her front porch, legs kicked out in front of them, glasses of milk and juice in their hands respectively and watching as a trio of boys practised tricks on their bikes. How much longer would it be until they'd be showing off those tricks to the bigger kids in the nearby skate park, Eleanor wondered.

"We don't _do_ Halloween," John replied, taking a sip of his warm milk, courtesy of her mother, "Dad doesn't like it."

"What part of it? Staying out late or dressing up?"

"Um, I don't know. He just says he doesn't like it. Jake said he used to go out for Halloween all the time when _he_ was a kid, but one day Dad just stopped letting him and Joe. I wasn't even born then. He just stopped."

"That's weird. Have you tried asking him why not?"

John shrugged, taking another sip. He was almost done, the last dregs sliding down the glass and settling at the bottom, "He yells at me whenever I ask and I don't like it when he yells."

Eleanor leaned forward, a frown tugging at her lips. The trio of boys let out loud whoops of laughter when one of them managed to land a successful bunny hop onto the curb and then off of it. They seemed to be the same age as John. A lot of the kids on their street were.

"Is there anything you want to dress up as if you could go?"

"What?"

She leaned back and looked at John fully. His face was scrunched up and he was looking at her weirdly, like she had asked him some sort of complicated mathematical formula.

"For Halloween," she said, "Is there anything you want to dress up as?"

" _Why_?"

"So there isn't anything?"

"I - um, I don't know."

"Any character from a cartoon or a movie?"

John stared down at his feet, at the beaten blue sneakers he wore - the same company as Eleanor's own. She waited. That was one thing she had learnt about John, sometimes you just had to wait and let him think.

"Baloo." He said after a long pause, "From that new cartoon on."

She tipped a brow up, "The bear that's a pilot?"

"Yeah!"

"Okay. Any reason?"

John was vibrating with excitement, his hands wrapping around the hem of his patchy brown sweater, "He's so cool - and he's a pilot too! I want to become a pilot and fly an aeroplane and wear a cool jacket! I'm not allowed to watch a lot of TV cause Dad hates it, but Joe always makes sure I can watch and I love Baloo so much!"

"Well, if your Dad won't let you enjoy Halloween, maybe we can do something about it together."

He stopped and stared at her. The had spent almost every day for the past month together after school and those sharp eyes still made her squirm. He certainly took his time to think, but there was a kind of razor-sharp intelligence underneath his perpetual loneliness and hesitancy. He would probably be one of those smarmy, snappy smart-guys, Eleanor mused, the ones that got all the women like on TV.

"Really?" He looked weary as he asked, as if she was going to pull the rug out from beneath his feet at any moment. Jeez, how mean were the other kids in his life if he was constantly questioning everying?

"Sure. I'm too old for Halloween anyway but it can't hurt to just dress up and hang around."

"You're not too old."

"I'm a _teenager_ , John. Only little kids dress up for Halloween and go around getting candy."

"That's not true! When Jake was around, he'd dress up and go hang out with his friends for Halloween all the time! And he'd get candy too, though he wouldn't ever share any with me."

"Well, it's not like I can go to any parties right now _anyway_ , so what's the point of dressing up? I'd just look weird. Anyway, look around for a jacket like Baloo's and I will too. Once we have everything ready, we can dress up and roam around town together."

"Wait, what do you want to dress up as?"

"A police officer," Eleanor replied, unable to stamp out the pride in her voice as she added, "Like my dad. I've always wanted to be one."

John was quiet as he processed everything. The kids on bikes were starting to part ways, probably headed back home because it was almost time for dinner. Speaking off, she'd probably have to take John back as well. 

"Do you promise?" His voice was soft, shaky with nerves.

Eleanor knew the drill by now. She nodded firmly, "Promise."

**~ * ~**

The afternoon sun beat down on them, warm and comforting in the chill of early November. It was a quiet day, not a lot of the neighbourhood kids had ventured out yet - no doubt wrapped up in the afternoon cartoon showing - some dumb one about a bunch of babies.

"Hands up, crook!" Eleanor screamed, hands clasped together in the form of a mock gun. She stared down the 'barrel', one eye squeezed shut.

John froze and turned slowly, blue eyes wide in over-exaggerated horror as he eyed her, his hands balled into tight fists.

"You'll never catch me alive, copper!" He yelled, throwing the fistful of dirt he had hidden in his hand at Eleanor before darting down the near-empty street.

"Hey - John!" Eleanor yelled, spitting out the dirt that had accidentally gotten into her mouth, " _Gross_!"

She gave chase, abandoning her 'gun'.

"You're too slow," John sang, leaping over a band of low shrubbery, his legs working hard to try and keep the distance he had gained by unfair means.

But he was far shorter than Eleanor was and it wasn't long before she caught up to him, hand grasping the back of his sweater and tugging him to a halt. They stopped, panting for air. John was almost doubled over, his cheeks ruddy and his eyes squeezed shut.

"Got you," Eleanor gasped out, a big, smug smile worming its way across her face.

"No," he panted out, "Fair. You're taller."

"Fair's fair. Now come on you criminal, I'm taking you to jail."

"Not if I run away first!"

Despite his declaration, and his best efforts, John's attempt at wriggling out of her grasp failed. It seemed to escape John that Eleanor was not only older than him, but he also wasn't even near hitting puberty - Eleanor had the upper hand and knew it. What that resulted in was his flailing around like an excitable weasel, causing Eleanor to laugh loudly at his antics. His ears grew red and he grit his teeth and it only added more fuel to the fire. And his wiggling.

"Let me go!"

"Not a chance," she grinned, "You've been caught and no you're going to jail."

"But I didn't do anything wrong! You have the wrong person."

"Oh yeah?"

He squirmed until he was facing her, a determined glint in his eye. John nodded firmly.

"Yes."

"Alright," She said, leaning down to his height, her grin widening, "Want to go to court then and find out?"

"John!"

They both turned sharply in the direction of the voice. A tall man - dressed in a red plaid shirt and a dark shirt underneath it - with fiery red hair and the same blue eyes as John, was walking towards them. He had one hand stuffed in his dark pant pocket and the other was holding a cigarette up to his lips. Eleanor awkwardly let go of John's shirt but he stayed by her side, a relaxed expression on his face despite the glower the man was sending their way. 

"There you are. C'mon, we gotta head home now."

"But Jake," John whined, high-pitched and needy, "I still want to play, there's plenty of light out!"

'Jake' slid his icy eyes from John and over at Eleanor. Giving her a slow once over - weighing her heart against a feather, she gulped - he assessed her with narrowed eyes. Taking a long, slow drag from his cigarette, he never once broke eye contact. Evening without knowing his name, Eleanor would have figured out he was a member of the Seed household. Those eyes - so impossibly blue and probing - seemed to be a familial trait.

"Who are you?" he asked around his cigarette.

"Rook. Uh, Eleanor Rook. From down the street." She pointed over her shoulder in the vague direction of her house. 

"She's been playing with me for a while now, Jake! She's my friend and she's really nice and she wants to become a cop like her dad when she grows up!"

Eleanor blushed at that, but didn't say a word. Jake eyed her for a moment longer before grunting and turning his attention towards his brother. Almost immediately, his eyes softened even though his face remained stone cold and expressionless.

"Let's go, John, it's almost time for dinner."

"I don't want to eat, Jacob, I want to play!"

Jacob frowned and opened his mouth to speak but Eleanor beat him to it.

"I have to go home myself and help my mom. Remember, my dad's partner is coming to visit for dinner? We can play again tomorrow."

John didn't look too happy about it, even as he nodded his head and moved to his brother's side. Jacob dropped his cigarette, crushed it under his boot, and with his newly freed hand, ruffled John's hair until he was squeaking in indignation, calling his name and trying to push his hand off. It was such a sweet, vulnerable moment, Eleanor immediately felt awful for having seen it. Like seeing someone naked, she thought.

"How long have you lived here?"

The question caught her off-guard and it took her a moment to find her tongue and answer.

"About a month now? Two, once November ends. I met John and Joseph when I went over to your house to give you cookies." There was something about the way he was looking at her that turned her tongue loose and made her say more than she intended to.

"That so? Well, _Rook_ , we'll be seeing you 'round."

Eleanor could only nod, her heart in her throat as those unnerving eyes finally released her. John was grinning up at his brother, tugging at his plaid over-shirt to get his attention. Jacob turned to his brother. She recognised a dismissal for what it was and wasted no time heading back to her house. She hadn't been lying about the dinner after all, but her mother never did like it when Eleanor was in the kitchen. Something about burning the house down or cutting herself open with a knife.

John called out his goodbyes and all Eleanor could manage was a silent hand wave back.

They were so odd, all three of them. John was excitable and loud and the physical embodiment of a puppy. Joseph (or what little of him Eleanor had seen) was mute by comparison, sticking to books and isolated places. Jacob sat nowhere near the spectrum his younger brothers had set up - he was in a league of his own.

Some would call Eleanor's father intimidating. From his stature to his demeanour at work - he was a man you _did not_ mess with. And while he was completely docile, positively friendly at home, Eleanor had seen him in action and knew how terrifying a person he could be when he wanted to. Jacob Seed gave her the same impression. Because the way John acted around him - no one reacted with such open trust and affection like that to a jerk, especially kids.

And when she reached her front door, hand on the door knob, she found herself turning around for a split second. John was on Jacob's shoulders, and even from that distance, she could just make out how loudly he was chattering away. 

Yup, Jacob Seed was a big softie, she concluded, under those squinty blue eyes and mean scowls. 

Comforted by that fact, she opened her door and readied herself for a lecture on the state of her room. Again.

**~ * ~**

Cutlery clinked delicately together. A clock, set deep in the house ticked away, continuous and monotonous - an eerie backdrop for the ominous silence that had fallen on the four people sat at the dinner table.

Eleanor shifted in her seat, cutting into her rubbery steak as quietly as she could, shooting subtle looks her father's way whenever she could to see if he would rectify the situation.

Finally, while taking a long drink of his wine, he noticed her looks and the heavy atmosphere and cleared his throat.

"So, Whitehorse, how are you liking the steak?"

"Delicious, Rook. The food is delicious. You've really outdone yourself, Ma'am." Earl Whitehorse said, a smile peeking out from underneath his impressive mustache. Eleanor's father never could grow a mustache that big.

"I'm glad you like it, Earl," Her mother replied, her own smile thin and polite, "Though I wish George would have told me what you like to eat, I would have made that instead."

He shook his head, "Oh, Rook is busy with other things, I can't bother him about something that silly. 'Sides, the steak is wonderful, really."

Earl Whitehorse was not a good liar. Eleanor's mother made awful steaks - just the absolute worst ones. Her pastas, on the other hand, were excellent, and Eleanor sorely wished she had made that instead.

Eleanor chewed on a piece of steak and knew she would have to keep chewing at it for a good minute before it would be malleable enough to swallow. God, she really wanted her mother's pasta. The only silver lining was that she didn't have to speak. Not that Earl Whitehorse seemed like a bad person - he had that twinkle in his eyes of someone who was always up to some playful mischief. No, it was just that Eleanor was in no mood for forced politeness, something she had inherited from her mother apparently.

"George tells me you're from Montana?"

Earl Whitehorse hurried to swallow his bite, his face going red from the effort because he didn't chew at it enough times (the fool) and choked out an answer, "Yes, Ma'am, Hope County."

"Hope County? I don't think I've ever heard of it. It sounds like a lovely place."

“It sure is, Ma’am. I spent quite a few summers hiking on the Whitetail Mountains with my Pa. There were a lot of cabins and lodges you could rent up there, we’d spend the whole weekend there sometimes, just huntin’ an’ fishin’. And the Henbane River had the best fish - salmon, bass, trout, you name it. The water was just so clean, you could see their scales flashing in the water - could look all the way to the bottom on a good day. We lived in the Valley, in this small place called Fall’s End. Not much to do there except farm and raise cattle. And that’s what we did - raise cattle, that is.”

“Sounds like a heck of a place,” Her father hummed to himself, “How about we swing by for a visit sometime, sweetheart? During Ellie’s vacation? You can be our guide, Whitehorse. We could check out those fishing and hunting spots you mentioned on the - what was it called?”

“Whitetails. It’s been a while since I’ve been back, so I certainly wouldn’t turn you down. Heck, I could give you the grand tour of Fall’s End, not that there’s much there to begin with.”

Her mother had long since given up eating her vegetables and left more than half her over-cooked steak on her plate, turning instead towards her wine. “Why did you leave then, if you don’t mind me asking? You certainly seemed to love it there.”

Earl Whitehorse was quiet for a moment as he considered that, “Well, I left it so I could grow, career-wise, Ma’am. I want to become Sheriff of Hope County but I need some experience from other States to qualify.”

“That doesn’t sound right. At all.” Her father’s brows furrowed, “Hope County sure has some odd qualification requirements.”

“It’s more my own," He seemed to search for the right word, " _personal_ qualification requirements. To become Sheriff of Hope County you follow the same rules as the rest of Montana. But you have to be calm under pressure and not much really happens in Hope County. You get the occasional traffic violation or petty theft. It’s really just pointless squabbles between farmers and cattle owners that can get a little violent.”

“You are an absolute nut job, Whitehorse, swear to God.”

“George!” Her mother snapped out sharply. The table grew quiet.

Earl looked carefully at her father, gauging his reaction. From his expression alone, when her father started to laugh and make silly excuses to her mother, that hadn’t been what he had expected. It seemed Earl Whitehorse had seen the absolute worst of her father and though that was all there was. Boy, was in for a surprise.

“He is!” Her father was saying, a jovial smile on his face, “Ell, is it or is it not ridiculous to go make stuff harder for yourself?”

“George, leave Eleanor out of this. Eleanor, ignore your father. I am so sorry about this, Earl. George is being extremely rude for absolutely no reason.”

“Oh, Whitehorse has seen worse.”

Earl wiped his mouth with his napkin, “It’s true, Ma’am. I actually can’t believe this is the same Rook I’m forced to do patrols with every day. Wish he was this nice.”

“See?” her father grinned, “He’s seen worse, Helen.”

Her mother looked to be seconds away from imploding, “That’s not something to be _proud_ of, George.”

“Honey, I’ll have you know, that in my line of work having a reputation is very important - crucial, even! For the crooks outside and inside the department.” He shot a wink over at Earl, who was shaking his head. Seeing that he was going to get no support from that end, her father switched tactics and turned to Eleanor, who was finishing her water, “Ell, tell me something: would you listen to a scary policeman or a nice one?”

Eleanor put down her empty glass of water and looked at her mother, “May I be excused?”

“Yes,” her mother rushed out, “You’re excused. Go finish your homework.”

Eleanor didn’t have any homework. Her mother knew that.

“Ell!” her father gasped, looking affronted, “Sweetheart, I thought you were on _my_ side!”

“Dinner was great, Mom. It was nice to meet you, Uncle Earl.”

Earl blinked at that, clearly caught off-guard. She took her dishes to the kitchen and as she passed by him, she distinctly heard him murmuring ‘Uncle Earl’ under his breath in wonder.

Tucked away in her room, Eleanor could hear their conversation, muted and indecipherable but pleasant. Occasionally either her mother or Earl would say something and everyone would laugh. The wine seemed to have put them in a good mood. 

She wondered how much longer she would have to wait before she could have wine that would put _her_ in a good mood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jacob being a Good Older Brother is just the best thing in the world and I will fight for it. He may be a bit misguided in his love for his brothers later on, but it starts off good like most things.


	4. Birthday Frivolities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy, a little fluff in these trying times.
> 
> **Warning** : A bit of harsh swearing from Jacob in the last scene.

The bell rang and everyone clamoured to get their things packed. Some of the more crafty ones already had their bags packed and were halfway out the door before the shrill ringing had even ended. Their teacher - a middle-aged woman with greying hair and a sour personality - just waved her hand at them, returning to her desk and settling down.

The trio of girls Eleanor hung around with claimed she was a fairly pleasant woman when she wasn’t being hounded by loud, annoying teenagers. Eleanor wanted to believe them - she really did - but when Mrs Clarke set those dark eyes on her and called her out for dozing off, she didn’t think she could. Because sure, maybe she _shouldn’t_ be sleeping, but making fun of her wasn’t fair either.

As it was, it was the last class of the day and the last day of the school week - the only thing Eleanor wanted to think about was the long nap she would take one she got home. John had said he couldn’t play, the girls were busy with their own things and her mother had gone to spend the day with her new friends. Which left Eleanor to spend the day how she wanted to: sleeping.

Afterall, she wasn’t part of any clubs or groups and she liked it that way. On days she got exceptionally bored, she simply swung by her father’s precinct and watched him and Earl Whitehorse work. Which was what she was going to be doing for all of the next week _anyway_ while her mother went up to Chicago to visit her mother. Maybe if she bugged Whitehorse enough, he might let her practice with the laser gun in the shooting range. If she was going to be a police officer, she had to get used to the weight of a gun, after all.

With her head firmly in the clouds, Eleanor didn’t notice when someone careened around the corner until she smacked straight into them.

She fell back - hard - onto the linoleum. Passing students did nothing but stare and snigger.

“I’m so sorry, are you ok- Eleanor!”

Eleanor blinked away the stinging tears gathering in the corner of her eyes and turned to see Joseph kneeling down in front of her. He had a worn backpack slung over one shoulder and a worn look on his face. Despite the cold, he wasn’t wearing much aside from a dark long-sleeved t-shirt. And what looked to be makeup on his face, though the shade wasn’t right. He caught her eye and she shook her thoughts away.

“Joseph - sorry, I should have been looking where I was going.”

Joseph’s smile was small and warm and he held out his hand. She took it and he easily helped her up to her feet. 

“We both should have, but it’s fine. You aren’t hurt, are you?”

Eleanor brushed down the back of her pants, “Aside from a bruised butt, I don’t think I’ve broken anything.” 

Joseph’s eyes darted away and he rubbed at the back of his neck. They stood there, a few feet apart, as the sea of students parted around them. 

“I don’t think John would forgive me if I accidentally hurt his favourite person.”

“‘Favourite person’?”

“His words, not mine. He’s become very fond of you - unsurprising, really seeing as you’re his first proper friend since we’ve moved here.”

“Oh.”

“Thank you for playing with him. Really. Our parents aren’t the most,” he grimaced, “ _available_ , and Jacob and I are often busy with work, so John tends to get very lonely.”

“Well he’s a good kid. Smart too. And it’s the least I could do.”

Joseph shook his head, “You didn’t have to, but you did. Thank you. And-” he hesitated, a troubled look flashing across his face, “Um, could I talk to you about something?”

Eleanor raised a brow at that. This was already the longest they had ever spoken in a stretch and he wanted to talk _further_? Stranger things had certainly happened, but this ranked pretty high up there. Well, her curiosity had certainly peaked.

“Sure,” she said after a moment, “Are you heading home?” He nodded, “We can walk home together and talk then.”

Joseph’s eyes widened and he stared at her like she grew another head. Not sure what else to do with him gawking at her, Eleanor took the lead. Turning on her heel, she began to head towards the door. A beat later, she heard him follow after.

“So,” she said, once they were spat out of the school and walked abreast towards their street, “What did you want to talk about?”

He took a deep breath in, “I know you’re under no obligation to - I know that and Jacob knows that and we would completely understand if you said you didn’t want to, we would, so don’t feel pressured into going. At all. I-it isn’t fair of us to even be asking but it would mean a lot if you did but like I said before, absolutely no pr-”

“Joseph!” Eleanor interrupted, coming to a complete halt. They were a block away from the school and only a few away from their street and she still had no clue what he was avoiding talking about. “It’s okay, I know all that, I _do_. Just tell me what it is.”

He flashed a smile, thin and pained, and nodded his head. And then spat out in a rush, “Yeah, okay, um, it’s gonna be John’s birthday this Sunday and we’d - Jacob and I, well John too but only _after_ because we want to keep it a secret - sorry, I’m talking too much, -but, um, yes, uh, we would like if you’d join us. We’re going to do it in the park. A small cake, nothing - nothing _fancy_.” He lost steam then, his speech slowing down, “If you’d join that would be _amazing_ , it would be- great., it would uh, be great. You don’t have to bring anything either. Just… just yourself. If that’s okay.”

Eleanor nodded, “That’d be awesome. I didn’t know it was John’s birthday so soon. Should I meet you guys at the park then?”

He stared at her for a long moment, mouth parted, eyes unblinking. Eleanor shifted from one foot to the other, discomfort growing the longer he pinned her down with his eyes.

“Uh, Joseph?”

He snapped out of it, shaking his head, “S-sorry. I didn’t - you’d - yes, uh, Sunday, at the park. At around one o’clock, if that’s okay.”

She flashed him her brightest smile and nodded. They began to walk again. The weather was nice - that was one thing that this place had over Chicago: the weather was almost always sunny. It probably would be during the party too.

“By the way, what’s with the makeup? It’s completely the wrong shade.”

His hand began to drift up until he stopped and jerked it back down by his side.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry.” He added quickly, “John talks about you so much, it’s almost like we’ve been friends this whole time.”

“He talks a lot about you and Jacob too. It’s cute seeing how much he looks up to you guys.”

His head fell, “We’re not the greatest role-models, I’ll admit. Jacob is a bit troubled and, well, I don’t have too much going for me.”

“That’s not true. John is always talking about how great you two are. Even when you tell him off about something, he always has something nice to say about you. And after this birthday, I don’t think I’ll hear the end of it.” She grinned at the thought of John bounding around, chattering energetically about his older brothers.

Joseph laughed, thin and weak, “I hope he enjoys it. Our parents, they don’t like these sorts of things.”

“Fun?”

“Ah, well, _frivolous_ things.”

She scrunched her nose at that, “What does ' _frivolous_ ' mean?”

“Useless stuff. A waste of money,” Joseph replied, a strange tone to his voice - ethereal and airy. Like he wasn’t really there anymore and instead a thousand miles elsewhere.

“Birthdays aren’t a waste of money though, they’re important!”

He smiled, but it was all wrong. It was so sad. Everything about him bled it. It wrapped around him like a blanket of despondency. His smile didn’t reach his and his eyes - dry and empty and dark as the ocean - there was no mirth in them.

“Maybe,” he murmured, so soft she almost didn’t hear him, “But it depends who the birthday is for. Who would want to waste money on someone worthless.”

“What?”

Joseph blinked and the strangeness vanished. He looked down at her and blinked harder.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I said that. Please, forget it.”

“Are you-”

“ _Please_.” His voice was firmer. Gone was that light, detached voice. He was in the present again. Flesh and bone once more.

“Okay.”

They walked in silence then, all the way back to their street. Joseph walked her to her door, wished her a good day, turned and headed down the street towards his own , five blocks down. Bony shoulders slumped - he carried the weight of the world, looked about ready to keel over from it. There was something so very off about the Seeds, Eleanor thought, something that just didn’t add up.

Maybe she could talk to her mother about it later, once she got back from her get-together with her friends. For now, Eleanor was going to push any intrudent thoughts out of her head, grab a snack, and sleep.

**~ * ~**

“A birthday gift? Alright, sure.”

Eleanor and her mother were at the local grocery store, stocking up because her mother didn’t think her father and her would survive on the copious provisions they had at home already. And despite her father’s protests and assurances, Helena Rook was not about to let her husband and her daughter subsist on deli meats and paninis for a whole week.

“A balanced diet,’ she had said to quell her husband’s arguments, "means things _other_ than carbohydrates and ham.”

Which was why their shopping cart was half-full of vegetables that Eleanor bet ten whole dollars would end up stale and unused in their fridge. And while she had posed this point quite a few times, her mother tended to not listen to anyone once she had an idea in ehr head. Another thing Eleanor had apparently inherited from her.

“The toy section should be a few aisles down, we’ll stop by there when we’re done.”

“Hey, Mom?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“I have a question.”

“Ask away and I’ll try to answer it as best as I can.”

“Do you think the Seeds are a little weird?”

Her mother hummed distractedly, pausing to check the price difference between two identical cans of beans, “Weird? Weird how?”

“They don’t celebrate birthdays or Halloween. I bet they don’t celebrate Christmas either. And John and Joseph say really weird things.”

“Well, every family is different. Maybe they believe in some off-shoot of Puritanism. Actually, wait, weird _how_?”

She was tempted to tell her what she thought she heard Joseph say - but that had sounded far too odd and she probably misheard.

“When I was walking home with Joseph yesterday, he said he wanted to have a small birthday party for John ‘cause his parents said birthdays were a waste of money.”

Her mother frowned and thought for a moment. They wheeled past the bakery aisle and any time Eleanor tried to reach for a baked good, her mother would slap her hand away. 

“Well,” she said after a long while, “You know why we have to give charity, right Eleanor? And that not everyone has the same luxuries as we do? For some families, birthdays are a luxury. I think it’s wonderful that John’s brother’s are working so hard to make his birthday so special. Let’s get him a nice gift then and make it even more special. Is there anything John likes?”

Eleanor scratched her brain to try and recall if there was anything that stood out in particular.

“Planes?” she said, “He wanted to dress up as Baloo from that cartoon because he was a pilot.”

“Alright, we’ll get him a nice toy plane then. I’m sure they’ll be one in the toy section. And Eleanor?”

“Yeah?”

Her mother stopped, leant down and kissed the crown of her head. Her expression warm and sweet as honey. Eleanor blinked up in surprise.

“I’m so proud of you, really. I know the family may seem ‘weird’ at times but I’m so proud of you for being friends with the boys regardless. People can be very cruel and it’s important we don’t add to that cruelty.”

Eleanor shrugged her shoulders, jerky and awkward as her face heated.

“You were the one who said to make friends in our neighbourhood,” she mumbled.

“I know. And it really makes me happy. So happy in fact, I’ll even make some cinnamon rolls for tomorrow.”

That was the best news Eleanor had heard all week.

**~ * ~**

“Eleanor, I’m so glad you could - what is _that_?”

It was an overcast day. Clouds, dark and grey, hung like a wet blanket over the sky. Not the best outdoor birthday party weather, but it wasn’t nearly grey enough to threaten rain anytime soon. The park itself was full of kids and parents spending the day off together. The swings and slides and jungle gym were packed full of kids of all ages screaming and shouting their joy.

The Seed brothers had taken up residence on a picnic table - a wooden table with attached wooden benches painted a light green. Like mushy peas, Eleanor noted with disgust.

Joseph was sitting at the table, candles in his hand that he had been carefully placing on the cake, a packet of matches by his side. He wasn’t concentrating on the cake and candles though, he was looking at the boxes in her hand with absolute horror. As if they were bombs.

“Cinnamon rolls for us that my mom baked. And a gift, for John.”

Joseph’s brows furrowed and his mouth twisted, “I-I said you didn’t have to bring anything.”

Eleanor shrugged and put the box of cinnamon rolls and the wrapped gift on the table. It was one of those shiny wrapping papers with a reflective, coloured bit on one side and plain silver on the other. Christmas wrapping but more monochromatic. Eleanor had tried to find a blue that matched John’s eyes but couldn’t and settled for dark green instead.

“I wanted to; it’s his birthday.”

He shook his head, the frown tugging even deeper until it formed grooves, “No, Eleanor, you don’t understand, we can’t let-”

“Ellie!”

They both turned to see John running towards them, Jacob a few paces behind. They were returning from the mini rock-climbing wall set a bit away from the conventional park equipment. John’s face was bright red from excitement and he threw himself onto Eleanor when he got close enough. She rocked back but kept her balance, a hand resting on top of his head as he buried his head into her stomach.

“You came! Joe said he had a surprise but I didn’t know it was you!”

Eleanor smiled and ruffled his hair. Almost two months back, this wouldn’t have even been possible. They had come a long way during a short period of time.

“Happy birthday, John. Here, I got you a present - I think you’ll like it.”

She passed the gift over to him. His eyes shone. Really, honestly glowed. Bright as a star and twinkling just as wildly. Some people didn’t have the luxury of toys and gifts, her mother had said, and the way John was staring at the box, as if that was in and of itself the gift - it tore her heart in two.

“What's that you got there, John?” Jacob Seed asked once he drew close enough. His face clouded over when he saw the shiny wrapping paper.

Joseph leapt to his feet and approached his brother, holding onto his upper arm and trying to tug him away, “Jake, we need to talk.”

“Joe, I thought I told you to tell her _not_ to bring a god-damned-”

“Jake, _come on_ ,” Joseph hissed, casting a harried look her way.

Eleanor pretended to be busy with John as he titled the box this way and that, the awe not leaving his face. They moved then, closer towards a tree to her left. And while it was certainly a good distance away from the table, neither of them were making an active effort to keep quiet - all Eleanor had to do was press her hearing and she could pick up on what they were saying.”

“She brought it herself - she probably felt bad or something.”

“She has to take it back, Joseph. We are playing with fire as is and if that old bastard finds out we had a _party_ for John, he’ll flip his shit.”

“I’ll take the fall for it! I’ll say I - I don’t know, I’ll say I got another part-time job to save money to get it. Let him have it, Jacob. He looks so _happy_ and she showed up to his birthday party. How will she feel if we tell her to take the gift back? How will _John_ feel?”

John tugged at her shirt and she looked down, distracted from eavesdropping.

“Can I open it?” he asked, voice small and eyes hopeful.

“Yeah, of course, it’s yours.”

John nodded and sat down on the grass right there, putting the gift down carefully. He took one edge and peeled it away slowly. And then the other. Eleanor concentrated on his brothers’ conversation again.

“Joe, I don’t like this one _bit_.”

“I’ll take the fall - Jake, please.”

“Like fuck you will. Shit. I _really_ don’t like this.”

“He looks so happy. I can’t do that - we can’t do that to him. We can't do that to John - we'll be no better than _him_.”

John let out a gasp, startling Eleanor. He had finally taken off all the tape and was staring down at the image on the box. A toy plane - one of those plastic fighter types, black with white stripes on the body and wings. John’s mouth was hanging open and his hands shook with excitement as he raised it out of the discarded wrapping.

“I know, I _know_.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t - shut up. You don’t have anything to be sorry for. _I’m_ sorry. Fine, let’s go give John the best damned birthday party he’ll ever have. I’ll deal with whatever happens when it happens.”

Eleanor watched as his brothers began their return. Joseph was curled in on himself, arms crossed tightly. Jacob meanwhile looked like he was fighting off a terrible headache, one hand raised up and rubbing at the side of his temple.

They were still talking, whispering to each other before Joseph broke away and hurried towards them. He still had the candles in his hand, Eleanor noticed.

“That looks so cool,” he said once he got close and knelt down by his brother’s side, “What do we say?”

“Thank you so, so much, Ellie! I love it!”

He smiled - big and wide and all his teeth-

“John, you’re missing a tooth.”

It was a few rows to the back and she wouldn’t have noticed it before. But she did now and the hole was gapingly obvious. He was already losing his milk teeth? How much longer until he was going to shoot up past her?

“Yeah! I lost it last night,” John poked his tongue through the hole, before continuing, “Joe says I’m going to become a big boy real soon.”

Eleanor lifted a brow at Joseph who shrugged and smiled back weakly in response.

Grass crunched underfoot and Jacob joined them, “You’ve got a long time before you become a big boy, Johnny. Come on, let’s have some cake I’m starving. Wait, are those cinnamon rolls?”

Before Eleanor could respond, John whined out, “I will too! And when I grow up Eleanor and I will hang out all the time and we’ll fly in my plane and take down bad guys!”

Joseph laughed at that - a real laugh. It was nice. Eleanor wished he’d laugh more, properly laugh instead of those soft puffs of air.

“Okay, okay, let’s go eat cake first, tough guy.” Jacob ruffled his brother’s hair before hoisting him and his gift up and onto the bench with ease, “Joe, hurry up with the candles already. Rook, these rolls yours?”

“Yeah, my mom made them for us to have.”

Jacob nodded, a smile creeping along his face, “Thanks a bunch to Mrs Rook then. She’s a god-damned blessing.”

“Language, Jacob,” Joseph sighed, drawing a match against the striking surface and grimacing when it wouldn’t light.

“Hand it over.”

“I’ve got it.”

“Hurry up then.”

Joseph rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath. Jacob sniped back and they went back and forth for a moment as he got the match to lit. He threw the pack over to Jacob, who got his match ablaze on the first go. Together, they lit the candles.

It was an overcast day. From a poetic standpoint - a rather depressing weather type, second only to a torrential rainstorm.

It was an overcast day, but when John took a deep breath and blew out his candles, his brothers and Eleanor clapping loudly and singing off-key all the while, the clouds parted and a sliver of heavenly sunlight fell through.

Not _on_ their table. 

But damn near close to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's simultaneous a lot of fun and difficult to write stuff like this. Because these kids didn't have too great a past but it's also fun setting stuff for much later use.
> 
> Anyway, enough about that. I hope you enjoyed!


	5. The Situation Begins to Escalate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, I've been bogged down with a lot of work lately, though I'll try to upload the next chapter in a little bit.  
> Anyway, I have read your comments and my goodness - I didn't expect this to get the amount of love it has. I'm actually _genuinely_ speechless. 
> 
> Thank you all so, _so_ much, really. 
> 
> As always, please enjoy!

It was an early, Saturday morning. Her father was upstairs, fast asleep and snoring away a long night of work. Her mother still had her curlers in her hair, her dark silk gown tied primly and properly around her dark, silky nightgown. In the background, the TV was turned on and the volume was on low as the news fluttered by. The weather would be nice and absolutely nothing of note had happened the past week.

Dull golden light filtered in through the kitchen window setting everything it touched ablaze, from the faux-marble counter tops to the creamy tiles. Dust motes danced as they passed through the slanted beams, hypnotic in their chaotic movements. Early mornings weren't really Eleanor's thing, per say, but she would get up before her usual alarm now and again and enjoy the quiet of the morning with her mother.

And how beautiful her mother looked framed in the sunlight. The hot pink curlers held her dark brown hair tightly in their grasp. Her eyes, grey and sharp, were hazy and puffy with remnants of sleep. Her body was relaxed as she lounged, reposed really, on the kitchen chair, sipping at her black coffee and scanning the daily news paper. Eleanor had inherited her mother's personality but not her looks - something she often lamented about during these early morning chats they had, when the world was still sleeping and they were in their own, private bubble. How she wished she had her mother's warm skin, her dark hair, her beautiful eyes or her sharp features - any one or all of them, she wasn't picky.

"Eleanor," her mother began, gently setting her mug of coffee down on the breakfast table, "I want to ask you something but it might be difficult for you to answer."

Eleanor, who had been wolfing down her eggs and bacon, ground to a halt so she could chew, swallow and chirp and affirmative. 

"Well, do you remember Mrs Harris? From across the street? At Number 38? Doesn't matter - I met her the other day and she had some interesting things to say about your friends."

"Which friends?" Eleanor was proud to say she was gathering quite the group.

"The Seeds."

Her fork clinked against the bottom of the plate. She carefully set it down and settled back in her chair.

She tried for an easy, unbothered tone and missed it by a mile, "What about them?"

"This is the difficult part," her mother muttered into her coffee. She took a long, slow sip, as if to steel her nerves. The longer she took, the more Eleanor found her appetite diminish. Suspense never did her any favours. "Have they - ah, are they bad kids, in your opinion? I trust you to know right from wrong, Eleanor, and I also trust your judgement."

"Define 'bad kids'."

"Are they violent? Do they say things that sounds - I don't know, _wrong_? Mean things, maybe? Or about the sorts of things your father arrests people for?"

She recalled her conversations with the Seed brothers. They were certainly a _weird_ bunch but not _malicious_. Jacob, she could maybe peg as troubled, but so many boys fought in their school it wasn't completely out of the ordinary. And he never once threatened _her_ or offered her drugs or any of the sort of red flags her father had told her about.

"No," she said slowly, "They just say weird things sometimes, like I told you before. Why? Did Mrs Harris say they were bad?"

Her mother rubbed the lip of her mug with her thumb, the hard lines of a troubled expression settling on her face. It was rare to see her mother this bothered by something and it only made Eleanor more worried about the new friends she had made. She liked to pride herself in being able to tell good eggs from bad ones, and the Seeds were weird eggs, but good ones at heart. 

"Mom?"

"I'm sorry I was just thinking. No, they aren't bad. Poor things are probably surrounded by awful rumours. But I trust you to have your head screwed on properly, Eleanor. If any of them make you even a _little_ bit uncomfortable for _whatever_ reason, you come to me or your father, alright?"

"I know."

"I know you do."

"They really are good. Strange, but good. I swear."

Her mother's face softened - the harsh lines laxened and a smile slipped on as she took a sip.

"I know, sweetheart. But I worry; it's my job to worry. So as long as you stay safe and stay alert, I know I won't have to worry anymore than absolutely necessary."

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t worry at all. They’re nice. John, Joseph, even Jacob - when he wants to be.”

“I know you do, sweetheart. But when you have kids of your own, you’ll know exactly what I mean.”

Eleanor stuck her tongue out childishly at the thought and went back to her bacon and eggs. 

Her stomach remained uncomfortably tight, and the decedent smell of the fried bacon had lost its appeal. The eggs, cooked fluffy and soft and to absolute perfection, tasted like ash in her mouth. Her mother didn’t notice, too busy reading the morning paper as Eleanor forced down each and every bite of her previously delicious breakfast. 

"Oh right, before I forget, I've been thinking of getting back into teaching again."

"Really? When?"

"After Christmas, probably. In the local Elementary school."

"Fifth Grade again?"

Her mother hummed, "Probably. I might end up teaching John."

"He'd probably love that. I think all three of them fell in love with your cooking after the cinnamon rolls you gave us for John's birthday party."

"It was the least I could do, but I'm happy they enjoyed. You should have told me earlier, I'd happily whip up more things for the boys. Joseph is all skin and bones, poor boy. I met him at the grocery store the other day. He went to pick up some milk and bread. He's a quiet kid, isn't he? Quiet but polite."

"It took John's birthday for us to have a proper conversation; he normally just avoids people at school."

Her mother clicked her tongue and shook her head, "Such a good kid. God, children can be awful sometimes. Don't ever be like other kids, Eleanor. Don't bully kids just because they're different, alright? Actually, don't bully them _at all_!"

"Yes, Mom," Eleanor replied, eating the last forkful of eggs, significantly more relaxed.

**~ * ~**

Despite what most people thought and assumed, fights broke out on a rather frequent basis at the local high school Eleanor had enrolled into - especially between the male population. Whether it was over girls, opposing sports teams, childish rivalries or because boys could be stupid, no week was complete without _someone_ being sent to the Principal's office for brawling on campus grounds.

It wasn't exactly _unexpected_ when you stuffed close to a thousand hormonal, volatile teenagers together; there were bound to be mishaps like this occurring. Or so her father said. But, it was also important to note that the perpetrators were normally the same most weeks.

James Martinez liked to pick fights with anybody who looked at him sideways - boys, girls, kids. He had a bad home life and took it out on everyone else. Luther Wilkes had a skull as thick as a rock and fists as hard as one too - both of which he liked to utilise to cause trouble just for the sake of it. Todd Gilliam was normally on the receiving end of violence because he liked to have what he couldn't.

Gilliam and Martinez had a sort of love-hate relationship, Juliana Crane, one of the girls Eleanor hung around told her one day, because Gilliam had tried to steal Martinez's girlfriend, only for both of them to find out she been cheating on _them_ with a third boy. Seeing as they had both been duped, they formed some sort of pact through shared tragedy. Or _something_ , Eleanor had stopped listening because this sort of idle drama bored her to death. It was all ridiculous, Eleanor though, on everyone's part. Who had the time or energy to cause such a fuss? She definitely didn't, even on days where she'd go home and nap.

But, as she quickly learnt, more gossip and drama circulated through her high school than the fictitious works on TV.

And that was exactly why, when Friday rolled around, everyone was confused when no fight had broken out. Quite a few people had joked semi-seriously about throwing a punch just to avoid the inevitable apocalypse upon them. Eleanor had certainly considered starting a fight herself to keep in line with the natural order of things, no matter how much Juliana and the other two girls made their opinions known about _that_ particular strategy.

She didn't (of course she didn't) and not because her conscience had decided to shake off its cobwebs. No, it was because she found a brawl had already happened in secret. She had rounded the back of the parking lot and headed towards the bike shed - where her new bike stood under padlock and key - when she heard the sounds of a scuffle.

Her father had taught her many things over the course of her life. How to stand up to bullies, how to throw a punch, where to kick a person to leave them momentarily incapacitated so she could run away. And amongst these nuggets of wisdom, her father's most prominent lesson was that: if she ever heard a fight breaking out, to turn around and run to the nearest authority. Under no circumstances was she supposed to try and stop the fight herself. Even though more than enough fights broke out at her school, Eleanor had never really gotten the chance to act on his instructions.

These life lessons completely escaped her as she stood there - padlock in her hands, the key inserted but unturned - and strained her ears. The sounds were so light, she had almost thought she had imagined them. A gust of wind rustling the leaves in _December_.

And then a muffled grunt, a wet _thunk_ and a hissed 'stay _down_ ' had Eleanor struggling with the lock and key.

"You alright?" A voice whispered, breathing harsh. It was familiar for some reason, not that it mattered because the damned key wouldn't turn and she was worried if she didn't slow down, she'd end up breaking it.

"I-I'm fine." A sharp gasp, a strangled hiss, "Y-you're bleeding."

Her hands froze. _She_ froze. That voice - it was Joseph Seed. Which meant...

A pause, "Aw shit, I am, aren't I? Great."

"Jake - you didn't need to step in like that," she could hear the grimace in his voice, "I-It was my fault anyway. I shouldn't have told them about the-" he let out a shuddering breath, "They probably thought I was some freak."

The way he said it - it cracked her heart in two, it really did.

"Fuck. That. Yeah, you sure as _shit_ shouldn't have told them about the voice in her head, Joe. What were you even _thinking_? That they'd find it cool? Edgy? Whatever, these fuckers got what came to them." A dull thump sounded. Jacob probably kicked one of them. "They think they can push you around just cause you're smaller? Not on my watch. Not with you and not with John."

"Jake-"

"Come on. We need to get some ice on that eye of yours. Jesus, between that old bastard and these assholes, I'll be amazed if anything is left of your fuckin' face."

"Jake!" Sharper this time, like the edge of broken glass, "Can you not _swear_ like that? Please?"

Eleanor's stomach coiled as she stood there, head bowed and padlock in a loose grasp.

"Fine, sorry, whatever. Ma's going to cream her freaking head off if we get late. Think she'll believe me if I say I ran into a pole? Shit, she's so drunk off her ass all the time she probably wouldn't be able to tell any difference."

A soft sigh, "You shouldn't say things like that, Jacob."

"Why? It's true."

The crunch of shoes against gravel had Eleanor stand rooted to the spot. There was nowhere to hide in the bike shed and the lack of walls meant they would immediately see her. The only thing she _could_ do was fake nonchalance. Acting never really was her strong suit, but she wasn't exactly rife with options. Badly acted nonchalance it was.

"Because people use the sheds and someone will... hear..."

They rounded the corner and came face to face with Eleanor.

"Isn't this just great?" Jacob sighed. His face looked like it had been smashed into a blender and Joseph was no better. A gasp escaped her and the padlock fell from her hands, clanging against the bike. "Jesus, is it that bad?"

"It's pretty bad," Joseph murmured, sporting a bruised eye, a bruised ego and a bloody lip. He was also holding his abdomen as if it hurt him. "Hi, Eleanor."

"What happened?" She managed to squeak out, her hands hanging uselessly by her sides as she took them in.

Jacob smiled and he looked like the devil himself. Blood streaked across his mouth and teeth, his hair hung limp above his steadily blackening eye and blood ran thick and sluggishly down in a steady stream from his nose. He raised a hand up and swiped at it with the back of his hand, smearing it further across his face. An involuntary shiver struck down Eleanor's spine at how manic he looked in that moment. Was _this_ what her mother meant?

"Some kids had some not nice things to say about my brother," Jacob sniffed, "I changed their opinions. Forcibly."

"Are you guys okay?" She took an aborted step forward, "Are they-"

Eleanor couldn't finish the sentence. _Couldn't_. She couldn't look at Jacob either without her intestines forming some elaborate origami shape in her stomach. To think she had been vouching for them only a week back to her mother. She didn't her mother would believe her if she could see them now - two deranged dukes of mayhem.

Jacob waved his hand, his tone flippant, "They're fine. In fact, tell someone about them in a bit. Or don't, I don't really care. Three of them and they couldn't even stop me - those assholes deserve to lay in the dirt for a bit and remember their place."

"Please," Joseph grit out, "Please, tell someone about them, Eleanor. I don't want to get Jake in any trouble, but we have to be home soon - we're late enough already, otherwise we'd do it ourselves, I swear."

Eleanor swallowed thickly around the growing lump in her throat, "Joseph, I think you two should visit the nurse's office. I don't think it's a good idea to move around with-"

" _Please_." Joseph looked so tired in that moment. Tired, beaten down and almost pathetic looking.

Running away after beating a trio of boys into a state of unconsciousness was not something even Eleanor's mildly skewed worldview condoned. But she understood that at that moment, it wasn't about her. It was about a hurt boy who wanted to avoid more hurt. These Seed brothers certainly knew how to tug at her heartstrings (another one of the many lessons her father had branded into her mind - never let anyone have the keys to your heart or they'd abuse their power; looks like she'd be breaking two of her father's lessons already).

"I've got it," she said an eternity later, "You guys go before 'Ma' chews your heads off."

Joseph whispered his gratitude, his shoulders slumping down and expression loosening. Jacob just sent her a sharp nod. They moved quickly then, making their way across school property - Jacob supporting his younger brother as they crossed the parking lot and escaped in the direction of the buses. Would they even be let on, she wondered, looking how they did.

Eleanor sighed, bringing her hands up and scrubbing at her face. Looks like she'd be going home a lot later than she had planned. Grabbing her key from the lock, she slipped it into her pocket and walked slowly back to the school, giving Jacob and Joseph plenty of time to escape. 

Just what had she agreed to?

"Aiding and abetting criminals," She grumbled to herself,, hoisting her bag higher on her shoulders, "Good job, Eleanor. Dad would be _so_ proud."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm starting to realise that Eleanor may sound like a bit of a dumbass, but I am basing off her understanding of life and stuff to roughly my own when I was her age. And I was a _really_ dumb kid. Like, geez, it's a miracle how many obvious social cues I've missed over the years. 
> 
> I have read the comments and unfortunately this is first part is going to come to an end, but part two of this series is already prepared and just needs to be gone over once. I hope you guys enjoy that and the third part as much as you have this. 
> 
> You guys make writing an absolute pleasure!


	6. Drastic Decisions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, even after I said I'd get this out early OTL  
> I'm bogged down with a lot of projects from uni and I've been busy ignoring them.  
> Also, this wasn't how it was supposed to happen. I have an entire alternate series of events that were supposed to happen instead of this, but when I began, it sort of got away from me. Not that I'm complaining, I think this is going to work a lot better than I had originally planned.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

There was still over a week left till Christmas but the precinct was decked out with more holiday decor than all the nearby Walmarts collectively stocked. Gold and red and green and silver tinsel strings, fairy lights in various bright colours and flashy, merry banners were hung and strung and wrapped around every available inch of space until you couldn't turn your head without being assaulted with holiday cheer. On some desks, baby trees had been set up with miniature baubles and twinkling lights. Someone even had a stuffed Santa in mid-wave, one gloved hand up high, the other one resting on his portly belly. Just above the Chief's door, a cardboard cut-out had been stuck of Santa Claus riding on his gilded sleigh - Rudolph leading the pack with a red and blue nose shining the way.

The oppressive holiday cheer didn't mean the precinct wasn't busy - by no means was that the case. Even with the town they were in being significantly smaller than Chicago, the precinct was just as noisy. Keyboard keys clacked away, voices spoke above one another until they turned into an indecipherable heap and the shrill ringing of phones and the sharp crackling of the walkie-talkies added an extra layer of noise to the steadily growing cacophony that would drive anyone to the point of near madness.

Eleanor strode in. And immediately dodged out if the way as an officer ushered a harried-looking woman out. She clutched at the straps of her back pack tightly and cast a look around the bull-pit.

She didn't know many of the people in this new precinct - not even half as many as she did in her father's previous one; which was to be expected. Nevertheless, it didn't make it any easier when she walked deeper and there were more unknown faces than familiar ones. She waded through a sea of strangers for a while, straining her neck and ducking her head this way and that to try and spot _someone_ who could direct her to where her father was sequestered away.

And then she spotted Earl Whitehorse and his impressive handlebar moustache hunched over a desk, writing away at a stack of forms. She dodged and weaved her way over to him, taking note of the photo frame on his desk. It hadn't been there before, Eleanor noted. It showed Earl next to an older woman with a thin, confused smile on her face as she stared at him. They had the same bright, green eyes and dirty blonde hair, though the woman was beginning to grey at the temples. Was it recently taken?

"Hey there, Chickadee," Earl grinned when he spotted her, putting down his pen and motioning her over, "I haven't seen you in a while, come to check up on your old man?"

Eleanor set her backpack down by his desk, "Hey there, Uncle Ear. Ah, sort of; Mom had to go get some work done for her new job at the Elementary school and she didn't want me staying home alone. Told me to come and wait here and to just go with Dad once he was free. Actually, where _is_ Dad anyway? I was trying to look for him but I couldn't spot him."

"Oh, he's processing some rowdy teenager that was causing some trouble near the park. Don't worry, both of us will be off our shift once that's done. Hey, how about we convince your dad to let us swing by that new ice cream place on the Main Street on our way home?"

"It's winter, Uncle Earl."

He winked, his jovial smile hidden underneath the whiskers of his moustache, "All the more reason to have it, I say."

Eleanor shook her head, a smile of her own twitching it's way onto her face when she recalled, "Oh, right. Mom baked some cookies for you, here."

She knelt down by her bag and rummaged around between the books she'd be using for her homework later until she found the warm, plastic box and passed it over to him. Earl made a noise of appreciation and quickly hid it in his desk drawer to 'keep them safe from the vultures'.

"Your mother is an absolute godsend, Chickadee, and don't you ever think otherwise. Her honey cake the other day? Gee, I thought I'd died and gone to heaven, I really did. Rook is one lucky bastard. Ah, sorry."

Eleanor laughed, moving to settle on her father's desk chair across from Earl's, "If only her cooking was as good."

"You have no idea how hard it is to cook until you're living alone and missing some homemade food."

"Even rubbery steak?"

He nodded his head, his expression mock grave, lips threatening to give it away by turning up into a smile.

" _Especially_ rubbery steaks."

"I doubt that."

"Oh, just you wait and see, Chickadee, just you wait and see. I bet you'll be calling up your mother every other day once you go off to college, begging for some of her rubbery steak. Then you'll remember what your old uncle Earl here said."

"Did you do that too when you moved out?"

His smile wavered, "Hell yeah I did! Ah, whoops, sorry 'bout that. But sure, sure I called my Ma up every other day. Sometimes to hear her voice and sometimes to ask her how she did the most basic of things and make it look easy. My phone bill shot up right through the roof during that first year, let me tell you."

"What about now?"

"Oh, now?" He said, shifting in his seat, a misty haze in his eyes as he stared off somewhere Eleanor couldn't see, "Now, well, my Ma isn't doing too well these days. I try to visit her when I can, but work gets in the way, you know. That's the worst thing about growing up - all these responsibilities that keep dragging you down. Like weights on your feet. When I was your age, well, I just wanted to get big and be my own man." The more he talked, the thicker his Montana drawl became, "Now that I am one, I'm stuck wishin' I was a kid again. Funny how these things word. Don't take youth for granted, Elle, that's my advice. Live out your life like a kid, arright? Carefree an' fun an' just - just enjoy yourself. Responsibly, a'course; don't go causing problems for anyone. Safe fun. Wholesome fun, ya know?"

Eleanor considered that and considered him. He looked older than thirty-something in that moment, wisened. Wherever he had gone off to, it was taking a toll on him, that much was clear.

"You talk like you're an old man, Uncle Earl, but Dad says you're still a kid yourself."

He blinked once, the haze leaving his eyes. He blinked again, his eyes wet. He sniffed once. Eleanor chose not to comment.

Earl cleared his throat, "Your old man says a lot of stuff, Eleanor, that doesn't mean he's right."

"When you aim to slander my name in front of my own flesh and blood, Whitehorse, at least make sure I'm not around to hear it."

They both turned to see her father standing there, Jacob Seed cuffed and by his side, looking bored out of his mind as he inspected a particularly garish string of reflective tinsel wrapped around a supporting column. Eleanor froze in her seat, her eyes widening and her mouth dropping open as she stared.

"You're back quick," Earl said, "Processing done already?"

"Mr Seed here already has a record, don't you?" He jostled Jacob, who turned to glare at him and then shifted to look at Eleanor. "Ell, close your mouth, sweetheart, you're going to catch flies. Why do you look like you've seen a ghost."

"Oh, for fucks sake I should have realised," Jacob groaned aloud, dropping his head for a moment, "No wonder - you're just as annoying as your dad. Does it run in the family?" He clicked his tongue, "Shame, I thought I'd make a move on Mrs Rook but if she's anything like you two I'd rather pass."

"What the _shit_ are you on about, boy?" Her father demanded his demeanour flipping like a switch. Gone was George the friendly, All-American Dad, he was Officer Rook now, tough as the nails he gargled.

"I know him, Dad! What did he do?"

Her father narrowed his eyes at Jacob first and then turned to look at her, "Why do you know him, Eleanor? Or how? Or -shit, _whatever_ the correct English is!"

Eleanor didn't like that harsh tone her father used on the job. Hated when it was directed at her and forced her onto the spot.

"U-um, he's my friend's brother. John Seed, the kid I play with."

"The neighbourhood kid?" her father asked, his brows furrowing, "I didn't even know he had brothers, least of all this waste of space."

"Now, now, verbal abuse is still abuse, _sir_ " Jacob sneered back, all teeth and violence, not perturbed in the least by her father.

"Shut the fuck up, Seed. Shit, I didn't even look at his address properly. From Number, what was it? 40-something?"

"Number 45," Jacob and Eleanor said in unison.

She glanced at him, but he refused to look back, staring at her father instead - challenging him with his arms cuffed behind his back. What a fool.

"Look at that, she knows where I live," Jacob's tone was saccharine sweet as honey from wasp, "I'd be careful where I let my 'flesh and blood' hang around, wouldn't want her poking her nose where it doesn't belong, _Officer_."

That was absolutely the wrong thing to say. And Jacob knew it.

"You watch yourself around my daughter, you hear me? I hear one _goddamned peep_ suggesting you or your brothers said or did _anything_ untoward towards my daughter and I swear I will lock you and your brothers up in the darkest, dingiest cell in the State's _goddamned_ Penitentiary - do you understand me?"

"Keep my brothers out of it."

"Do you understand me!"

The chatter in the precinct fell to a dramatic hush - even the phones seemed to momentarily stop ringing - at her father's proclamation. Jacob leered, slowly, lazily, suicidally.

"Loud and clear, _sir_. Luckily, I don't give a flying fuck about your daughter and neither do my brothers, so you won't be having any problems on _that_ front. So keep your hands away from my family."

"You watch that mouth of yours. Move. You're in detention for the next twenty-four hours. I feel awful for your parents - what an utter disappointment you must be."

"Funny," Jacob said, as her father pushed him along, "My parents say the exact same thing."

The noise kicked back into life - louder this time to compensate. Eleanor fell back into her father's seat, her heart beating a mile-a-minute. Her lungs burnt and she realised at some point she had forgotten to breath. As she reached a hand up to touch her throat, she found her fingers as cold as ice.

"Your father is something else. That must have been kinda scary, you okay, Chickadee?"

"Y-yeah. It's just - uh, weird, um, hearing Dad like that. He doesn't-" She swallowed. It was so hard to speak.

"I can imagine. You want a cookie? It'll help, trust me."

Before Eleanor could gather her wits and her tongue to protest, Earl had slid his drawer open, grabbed a cookie from the plastic box and passed it over to her. Eleanor nibbled at it, her stomach rolling and her throat threatening to close up as she forced down bite after bite. By the time she was halfway through the cookie, she calmed down enough to realise she hadn't tasted a thing. On the next bite, the explosion of sugar and chocolate worked to placate her even further.

"Alright now?" Earl asked, his bushy brows furrowed, "That father of yours - he needs to learn that there is a time and a place for everything. Of course, he'd never listen to _me_ if _I_ ever mention it. Think he'd listen to your mother?"

"I don't know. He's great at home, he never raises his voice, doesn't even swear."

"You and your mother are really lucky then. I'm stuck with Rook when he's being a real jackass - agh, sorry, Ell; I keep forgetting I'm not supposed to be swearing in front of you."

"It's okay, Uncle Earl, I'm a teenager, I know I'm not supposed to swear."

He huffed out a laugh, matching her wobbly smile with a confident one of his own, "Then you're a lot smarter than I was when I was your age, Chickadee. Hell, you're heaps smarter than your father."

"He says that a lot."

"For the first time, he's actually right."

**~ * ~**

“Eleanor.”

She hummed and continued to stare out the window of the black and white Ford police car Earl and her father shared.

She was in the back, her backpack by her side and her mind in utter turmoil. Earl and her father were in the front, a mesh window separating them. They had been talking quietly to one another for quite a while now, using jargon and phrases Eleanor could understand if she pressed herself. Eleanor wasn’t in the right mental state to press herself. The houses and buildings that flashed by were all the foreign stimuli she could take presently.

“I want to talk about your friends, the Seeds. I don’t want you to speak with them again.”

Eleanor’s mind screeched to a halt. She moved away from the window and stared at the back of her father’s head. 

“What?”

“And I mean any of them. Not James or John or whatever his name is, the youngest one. Not even him. Tell them whatever you have to - you aren’t supposed to speak to them again, alright?”

“Dad - you can’t make - I can’t do that; we’re friends!”

“Not after today you aren’t. Do you want to know what Jacob Seed was in for? Possession of drugs and battery. And you know what he had the nerve to say to me? They were for his mother. His _mother_! He has absolutely no shame!”

“It’s just suspicion for now, Rook,” Earl added quietly, “We don’t have anything solid.”

“The bastard committed arson, Whitehorse. Pinning him for drug possession and battery isn’t going to be too hard. And once we have something, he’s going in for a while. Bad eggs like him - they have one direction in life and that’s downhill, and they'll take anyone they can down with them.”

Eleanor didn’t like this, she didn’t like it _one bit_.

“But - that just means Jacob is bad. Joseph and John are good, I _swear_!”

Her father sighed, loud and harsh. Earl stared ahead, driving straight and slow, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. They were getting close to their house - just another block left. Her hands itched to pull at the door handle and bolt, but she was locked in. And the only way out was if her father let her out - which wasn’t going to happen until this awful conversation ended. She had dentist visits less tortuous than this.

“Dad, you don’t understand. I’m their _only_ friend - if I go away, they won’t have anyone-”

“Eleanor,” he said sharply, using the tone he did as Officer Rook, not as her father.

She quietened, her heart jack-hammering in her ribs. They’d be bruised by the time she got home, she just knew it. Her father didn’t talk like that to her or her mother - _ever_ \- it was strictly for when he was in uniform - oh.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he continued, softer this time, but the damage was done, “You’re my only child, Eleanor, and your safety is my only priority. I know this seems awful right now, but a few years down the line, you’ll understand that there was a reason for the decision I made. It isn’t an easy one, I promise you that. I don’t want to take your friends away from you. But this is for your own good.”

Tears fell unbidden. Eleanor tried to play it off like they weren’t there. She didn’t brush them away, didn’t sniffle. Just sat there, glaring at the grass on their front yard as Earl put the car into park and sat awkwardly, the engine idling.

“Ellie-”

“Can I please get out?” She croaked out, the words squeezing past the lump in her throat.

Her father replied after a beat, “Sure, sweetheart.”

The door was opened for her and she slid out, dragging her bag along with her.

“Ellie?”

She turned and looked over her shoulder. John was there, standing on the curb, eyeing her father and Earl with suspicion. He had the toy plane she’d given him for his birthday in his hands. She had promised to play with him, she realised.

Eleanor grew so tired all of a sudden. Tired and exhausted and weak and any synonym that followed that same vein. It was wrong of her father, he had said she’d understand some day, but she knew she wouldn’t. Cruel, he was being cruel.

“I’m sorry, son, but Eleanor can’t play with you anymore.”

“Why not?” John asked, his hands rising until he was clutching his place to his chest, blue eyes narrowed with confusion, "Ellie?"

She moved then, unable to bear it. Her father was talking, no doubt explaining the situation. Eleanor didn’t care. She closed the door behind herself but left it unlocked so her father could come in once he was done ruining a child’s day. 

One moment she was leaning against her front door, staring at the tiles on the floor, and the next she was in her room, looking through the window as Earl backed out of their driveway and drove off - John was nowhere to be seen.

Well, it looked like she wouldn’t be spending Christmas morning with John like she promised. The hand-made craft that sat in her desk was destined for the bin.

Her bag slipped out one hand, her heart out of the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did you like it?
> 
> Rook's dad, er, Mr Rook, seems kinda like a hardass, but just thinking of it from a parent's POV - I'd make pretty drastic decisions myself. And seeing as he's a cop and he's seen how kids can get easily influenced, I personally can't blame him too much for what he did, even if I wouldn't agree with the decision.
> 
> This was one of the easiest chapters to write, surprisingly, though I somehow feel the interaction between Jacob and Mr Rook was a bit janky - even after three rewrites, so I gave up and I'm going with this finalized version of it.


	7. Christmas Time Reparations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm... so sorry. But here we are. I've got the next one lined up as well, and I should have it out in two or three days depending on how much time I get. 
> 
> Anyway, please enjoy!

Christmas and New Years were a blur of activity. Two days before, her father’s older sister and her second husband arrived along with all six members of their progeny. And while the Rooks had a spare bedroom, only two of the youngest kids were able to fit in with their parents. Eleanor had to relinquish control of her own room to the remaining four and sleep on the floor on an inflatable mattress. 

The situation would have been tolerable if Eleanor liked her cousins. She didn’t. The youngest ones were far too young and the oldest ones were far too old. The two in the middle were about to enter college and Eleanor wasn’t exactly in the mood to chat up about their future career prospects while having them look down their noses at how childish she could be.

What happened in the car ride hadn’t been brought up. Her mother had been furious but her father had talked her down. The decision, it seemed, was final. And Eleanor’s already small pool of friends shrank further.

During the day, things were calm. The adults drank and talked and laughed and argued while the kids went about their own business. At night, when they were all forced to congregate in the cramped living room made even smaller by the presence of the trussed up Christmas tree, things got a bit wild. And noisy. So noisy.

The youngest ones seemed to just yell for the heck of it and they did so without pause, fueled on by the eggnog and baked sweets they had been stuffing their mouths with all morning. The adults also yelled, jovially and threateningly and all in good fun - the alcohol they had been sipping at all through the day had loosened their tongues and clouded their senses until their words jumbled up and they laughed at the dumbest of things.

Eleanor used to like Christmas parties before. They were always wild - not this bad - but fun. This time around, she just couldn’t find it in herself to enjoy a moment of it. When she’d explained to her mother, she just wrote it off as “your teenage phase” and to “enjoy as much as you can”. Not exactly words of wisdom, especially when her mother’s face was flushed brighter than a tomato and she was giggling at everything.

Opening presents was fun, she would admit. Getting a new Walkman certainly improved matters and the pretty dress her mother bought her was a definite ‘good moment’. Seeing the look on her father’s face when he took out the hideous jumper she had specially gotten for him - that got a genuine laugh out of her, as well as the rest of the family. 

And then the days began to drag on as the adults grew sick of one another, and all the noise, and all the alcohol they had been drinking. There was still plenty of time until New Years, which only made matters worse. That’s when one of them - and Eleanor had no idea who - came up with the _brilliant_ idea of camping. In the middle of winter. With a brood of six kids, one of which had _just_ been potty trained.

“I really don’t think this is a good idea,” Eleanor hissed over at her mother as she was busy meticulously packing away their things for the ‘weekend getaway’, “I really don’t. I think it’s going to end up being awful and everyone is just going to be fighting the whole time.”

They were holed away in her parents room. Behind the closed door and down the hall, the noise from the living room reverberated through the floor. Their poor neighbours, Eleanor grimaced, must think the house had been overrun by animals.

“That’s hardly a worthwhile attitude to have, Eleanor. It might just be one of the best camping experiences you’ve ever had.”

Her mother’s smile was strained. Her nerves were frayed, anyone could see it on her face that she was at the end of her rope but holding steadily on. Eleanor especially.

“What if we skipped out? Just you and me? Dad can hang out with his sister and brother-in-law and all his nieces and nephews and you and I can stay back and enjoy ourselves. My ears have been ringing nonstop this whole time.”

“I'm sure my head is going to split into two too,” her mother grumbled back.

“Well? I know you don’t want to go and I really, _really_ don’t want to either. It’ll be so much fun relaxing, just the two of us!”

Her mother huffed and dropped the folded shirt on top of the pile of clothes.

“And how exactly are you going to wriggle us out of this?”

‘I’ll pretend to be sick. And you’ll say you’re going to stay back and keep care of me.”

“That has to be one of the most ridiculous ideas yet, Eleanor.”

“It’ll work! Trust me!”

“I don’t know-”

“Mom, trust me. You want out just as much as I do. I can see it on your face.”

Her mother bit at her lip, contemplated the clothes in the bag and finally let out a heavy sigh.

“Fine,” she said, shaking her head, “You win. Now make sure you start acting sick from now if we want to make it believable. I’ll make up some nonsense about a fever.”

Eleanor shifted her features to try and look as pathetic as possible and let out a pitiful noise that grated at her own ears. “My head is hurting a lot and my eyes are burning and I-”

“Alright, stop! You’re _over_ acting, which is going to convince no one. Dial it down, Eleanor, and never make that noise again. I thought my ears were going to bleed.”

She grinned at her mother, jovial and pain-free, “That was kinda the point.”

“I think _you_ missed the point entirely.”

“So are we really doing this? Like _really-really_?”

“Yes,” her mother sighed, running a hand through her hair, “We are really-really doing this. Heaven knows why, because I surely don’t.”

“Hey, uh, Mom?”

“Yes, Eleanor?”

“Could I visit John and Joseph while Dad is gone?”

Her mother was quiet as she considered the lace curtains around her bedroom window. They had been pulled aside to let in the afternoon sunlight. She stood there for a long time, deep in thought, lip between her teeth and one hand on her hip.

“I don’t know, Eleanor,” she said eventually, “I want to believe that they have nothing to do with their brother’s antics. I want to believe that their brother really is innocent.”

“He got acquitted though! That has to count for something - it means he really didn’t do it.”

“Justice is flawed, Eleanor. Innocent people get thrown into jail and guilty ones get to walk away free. Your father said he had a record. For _arson_. He burnt down their previous house and was sent to a Juvenile Detention Center.”

She knew it was arson, but she didn’t think it was _that_ bad.

“But just because Jacob did something awful doesn’t mean Joseph or John would. Joseph wouldn’t hurt a fly - really! He’s the one who always gets hurt. Mom - please - they’re my friends. I promised John I’d see him over Christmas and I can’t imagine what he must think of me now.”

“Oh, Eleanor.”

Her mother reached forward and wrapped her in a tight hug. Her mother smelt of vanilla and cinnamon, from all the time she spent baking until it seemed to cling to her skin. It was a familiar smell, a comforting one. Eleanor curled her arms around her mother and laid her head against her shoulder.

“Fine,” she said, whispering into the crown of her head, “You can see them. But you have to be careful, alright? And your father cannot know. At all.”

“I promise,” Eleanor mumbled, “He won’t find out.”

**~ * ~**

“Eleanor,” Joseph said, surprise colouring his voice, “I didn’t know we were expecting you.”

A day after her father and his sister’s family went off on a foolhardy camping trip Eleanor found herself on the porch of Number 45, knocking on its door as if she had any right to. She was about ready to throw up from how tightly her stomach had been curling. The number of times she had talked herself up and then talked herself out of the whole plan in the span of an hour was an achievement in its own right.

Eleanor was finding that the attributes people praised her for might not even really be there. She certainly wasn’t brave. And she definitely wasn’t smart.

“I came to give John his gift. And you yours. I missed Christmas and, well,” She trailed off as she pushed forward the rectangular package. 

It was wrapped in wrapping paper with a cheery Santa Claus and a cartoonish Rudolph. The gift had been a last minute thing, something she had seen her cousin reading and thought Joseph might like.

He stared at it, wide-eyed, for a moment and then reached forward and held it. He whispered his gratitude and carefully pulled back the wrapping to reveal a long, blond haired man made of predominantly muscle brandishing a hammer, ‘The Mighty Thor’ it said in some strange font above him.

“This - Eleanor-”

“I wasn’t sure what to get you and I saw you reading comics in school sometimes so I thought you’d like it.”

Joseph’s expression was so achingly warm, as he looked up from the comic and at her. Those bright eyes twinkled like stars.

“Thank you,” he said, “Really. I’m sorry that I don’t have any gift ready for you.”

She shrugged, fighting off a blush creeping up her cheeks, “Is John around? I have to give him his gift too.”

Joseph blinked rapidly, tucking his gift carefully under his arm, “He’s in and I’m sure he’ll be delighted to know you’re over. He’d been pretty upset when he found out you couldn’t play with you anymore, and despite everything Jacob and I tried to tell him, he just wouldn’t listen. He should be fine once he sees you.”

God, why did Joseph have to be so understanding? It made her feel even worse.

“Um, I can’t stay for too long. I just wanted to come by and give you guys your stuff and sort of explain stuff to him since I couldn’t.”

“I’ll go get him now. And thank you again, Eleanor.”

She nodded quickly. She didn’t think she’d be able to withstand sitting in the Seed’s living room and was glad he hadn’t offered to invite her in. Jacob would probably be around, she realised, and she definitely didn’t want to see him. He’d ruined everything.

Joseph shot her another smile and retreated up the staircase. A staircase peppered with picture frames.

Eleanor was suddenly overcome with the temptation to walk in and sneak a peek at the picture frames. There was something magical about pictures, how they froze a moment in time for all eternity. And after a moment of indecision, she did.

The inside of the Seed house followed the same layout as Eleanor’s own. A kitchen to one side, a living room with dirty brown, cloth furniture to the other and a powder room tucked until the staircase made up the lower portion. The staircase lead to the three bedrooms.

She walked up the carpeted stairs carefully, listening to the muffled groans and creaks as the wood settled beneath her flats. The walls of the Seed house were bare for the most part - with the occasional family picture or peeling bit of wallpaper.

One particular frame caught her eye and had her pause, three steps away from the landing, to inspect it. It was one in which a much younger Jacob, Joseph and a baby John were all posing in front of the camera. Jacob had a devious smile on his face, arms crossed and red hair slicked back in a look any mother would force their kid to have during a ‘serious’ picture. Joseph stood beside him, hair slighted back much the same way, though he looked far more calm and composed than a child his age had any right to be, with a white bundle in his arms. The bundle was John, who looked like a frowning, pudgy potato.

“We took that one a bit after John was born.”

Eleanor leapt in her skin and turned to see Joseph standing at the top of the staircase, pulling at the end of his sleeves. A smile played on his lips and his blue eyes crinkled, “Sorry to scare you. Did you get bored of waiting? It took a moment, but he’s convinced.”

“S-sorry! It, uh, it got a bit cold. And I got curious and-”

Joseph’s face twisted into a frown, “Ah, right, it must have been - I didn’t let you in properly. Um, sorry about that. John is only going to be a moment. He - well, he needs a moment, I suppose.”

Eleanor raised a brow at that as she joined Joseph, walking back down the staircase.

“Is he that angry?”

Joseph shrugged, a cool, even expression on his face, “It’s alright, he’s a kid. Kids hold silly grudges when they don’t understand things, and John can hold grudges like the best of them.”

“I think he’s in the right this time.”

“Whatever the case, he’ll be down and you can talk to him properly, explain the situation. Knowing John, he’d let you get away with anything. I’ve never seen him this enamoured with anyone. Or anything.” He paused and looked at her, properly looked at her, “You look very pretty, by the way. I should have said it sooner, but that dress is really very beautiful.”

Eleanor looked down at her dress. White, with flowers and lace across the hem and bodice. Simple but elegant - something her mother had been quite proud to show off once Eleanor had gotten it out of the wrapping. And it worked very well with the warm leggings and jacket she wore on top. She grinned back up at him.

“Thanks. I thought I would try dressing up for once. My mom got it for me as a Christmas gift.”

“You always look nice, Eleanor. Though the flowers compliment your eyes nicely.”

She knew her mouth had fallen open and her face was heating up, but Eleanor would deny it all the way to her grave how her heart stuttered at that. Joseph seemed oblivious as they stood and waited by the threshold. 

The front door was closed but unlocked. If at any point John hurled very real accusations at her, Eleanor could run away like a coward and neither of them could stop her. God, who even considered running away from a _kid_? Her, apparently.

Small, muffled footsteps sounded and they both turned their attention towards the staircase. John was walking down them, looking far more grave than a kid should. Joseph nodded over at them both and made himself scarce, saying he had to check on the laundry or something.

John stopped on the second last step, eye level with her, and stared hard. His eyes were marble - glazed and unseeing. Like cat eyes, Eleanor thought, her father’s favourite marble to play.

“Hi, John. Merry belated Christmas.”

“You lied.”

She winced. He had her there.

“I know I did. And I wanted to make it up to you. Here.”

Eleanor moved forward and John scrambled back up a step. His exression hard, the hand he had on the bannister tight.

“I’m just going to put this present down,” she said softly, as if speaking to a spooked animal. John didn’t say anything, just watched as she approached and put the gift down before retreating against the door. “I really am sorry, John. But my dad said I wasn’t allowed to see any of you again.”

“Why?” He demanded.

He didn’t move from his new spot. Didn’t even look down at the gift. Eleanor had hoped that would convince him, tide him over to her side so this conversation could be easier. Looked like he wasn’t so easy to bribe.

She took a deep breath in, wondering how to explain what had happened in a way he’d properly understand.

“Jacob… did something. Something really bad and my dad found out and he didn’t like it. Like at all. He wanted to keep me safe so he said I’m not allowed to talk to any of you.”

“That doesn't make sense. Why?”

Eleanor shrugged, “It is what it is. But I couldn’t stand by that. Just because Jacob did something bad doesn’t mean you guys did. It’s why I sneaked over to give this to you. I couldn’t play with you like I promised, John, but I wanted to make sure you got your gift.”

“Why?” Was he stuck on repeat?

“Why what?”

He didn’t budge and inch, the glare he had aimed at her only increasing. Gone was the glassy-eyed look. He was properly mad now. Eleanor couldn’t tell if that was better or worse.

“Why did you sneak away.”

“Because I missed you. We’re friends.”

“Friends don’t lie to each other.”

She sighed, bringing a hand up and rubbing at the side of her face, “I know. I know they don’t. But that wasn;t my decision. If my dad finds out that I sneaked over behind his back, he’s going to be super pissed at me. But I had to. I am sorry. I really am. And I’ll say it as much as you want.”

He furrowed his brows and looked away a moment. He mumbled something, but they were too far apart for her to hear him properly.

“What?”

“I missed you too!” He yelled, getting to his feet and charging down the steps at her.

Eleanor let out a muffled gasp as her back slammed hard against the door, John wrapping his bony arms around her stomach like an octopus. The grooves of the door dug harshly into her skin and she grit her teeth but stayed quiet. John was mumbling into her stomach, grasping at her sides and burrowing down until she could feel the wet warmth of the tears leaking through her dress.

“Is everything okay?” Joseph rushed in. He saw them and mixed expressions crossed his face before he settled for mild concern, “Are you okay, Eleanor?”

She nodded and Joseph slipped back to where he was gone. Probably just around the corner or in the kitchen considering how quickly he had shown up.

“I missed you so much,” John sobbed out, the words muffled, “I thought you hated me!”

“Oh, John. I could never hate you. You didn’t do anything wrong, it was just - just a bad situation.”

She ran a hand through his silky, brown hair and John let out another strangled wail, holding even tighter, pushing against her until her back began to burn. He was really strong for a skinny kid. 

They stated there, Eleanor against the door, John clinging onto her for dear life, for a long moment.

“Hey, hey, calm down now. I’m here. Look, we can’t play like we used to, but we can still hang out.”

“Why?” he sniffled out between sobs, “Why?”

“Because my dad would get mad, I told you. We can hang out in the park or, I don’t know, but the point is we can still play but just not like before. And not as often.”

Eleanor tried to loosen his vice-like grip around her stomach. John let out a noise of protest. She tried again and he relented.

His face was red and ruddy from tears, a steady stream of snot going down his nose that had Eleanor privately cringing at. John rubbed at his puffy eyes and hiccuped, small, whines escaping him now and again.

Joseph walked in then, as if summoned, a glass of water in one hand and a wad of tissue papers in the other. He sent Eleanor a tight smile and kneeled in front of his brother, offering him the tissues first and then the water.

“Slowly, John,” Joseph murmured as John tried to drain it in one go, “You’re going to choke.”

“I’m thirsty,” John complained, gasping for air.

“I’ll get you another glass then. Make sure to wash your face before Mom and Dad get back, okay?”

Eleanor cleared her throat and they turned to look at her.

“I have to go now, I think I’ve been over for longer than I had planned.

Joseph shot a glance at his brother, who looked ready to burst into tears again.

“No,” John said firmly, “You can’t go again.”

“I have to, John. My mom must be worried sick about me. I was only supposed to be here for ten minutes and it’s definitely been more than that.”

“You can’t leave me again!”

She couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips, “John, I’m not _leaving_ you, I’m just going home. I’ll see you again, I promise.”

“Are you going to lie again?” He hissed out, red-rimmed eyes narrowing.

“John,” Joseph said, his voice stern with brotherly concern, “That wasn’t nice. You can’t hold Eleanor hostage.”

“She’s going to leave again, Joe! She’s going to leave and she won’t come back!”

“That doesn't mean you force her to stay. Eleanor promised she’d see you again, didn’t she?” he glanced over at her and Eleanor bobbed her head up and down quickly. Joseph’s tone softened, “And she will. So stop being a brat and let her go home to her lunch. She was nice enough to give you a gift and check up on you even though she wasn’t supposed to.”

John didn’t look pleased in the least as he stood there, his arms crossed over his chest. Eleanor reached a hand out and ruffled his hair.

“I know I didn’t get to keep that promise, John. But we both know I couldn’t have. One thing I can promise for sure is that, whatever happens, you and I will always be friends.”

“Cross your heart and hope to die?” He asked, fully serious.

“Cross my heart,” she agreed, miming the action, “I’ll see you soon, John, Joseph. Have a nice New Years, both of you.”

“You too, Eleanor. Thank you again.”

She smiled, small and weak and left. The door closed behind her. It had an odd note of finality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did you guys like it? I wrote this all out in one go, so if there are any problems, please let me know!


	8. March of Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while and I apologise but here we are, three new chapters.  
> There is going to be a lot of crying in this chapter and the next one - so much so I got sick of it but it's all for good reason, I swear.
> 
> Anyway, please enjoy!

_January bled into February_.

Eleanor's classes were the same but different. Her mother began her work as a teacher in John's Elementary school. She said he was a very smart kid. Eleanor believed her.

_February turned into March_.

She met with John occasionally, when she was sure her father was away at work. They'd meet at the park and Joseph would be there sometimes to "catch a break". Jacob joined them once, and only once, and didn't ever again. John mentioned it would be Joseph's birthday on Valentine's Day and he wanted to put a play on for him. They spent an afternoon hiding away near the sandpit crafting out a story and lines while Joseph sat on a nearby bench, ignorant as he read a Spiderman comic book. John ended up frustrated with the whole thing and they scrapped the idea. Eleanor taught him how to make a flower crown instead out of the flowering weeds and slim pickings they found in the park instead. Joseph, according to John, had been exceedingly happy with the flower crown, and wore it in their room for most of the day.

_March became April_.

Earl Whitehorse had to leave for a while - his mother's condition had gotten worse. Her father went with him. When they returned, it was after his mother's funeral. Earl didn't leave his home for almost two weeks, her father had to intervene. Earl returned to work, though over dinner, her father expressed his worry for his partner.

_April led to May_.

It was getting warmer but Eleanor was stuck indoors preparing for her exams. Earl hadn't come over for dinner - he hadn't for three weeks. He promised to show up for the last one of the month and he did. It was awkward and the conversation was stilted, but by the end of it, Earl had finally opened back up. He even managed a smile.

_May rolled into June_.

Eleanor was free - as were all of the other students. Her family didn't have anything planned that summer, because her father was far too busy with work. There had been a lot of crime recently and Earl wasn't at his best, so he had to work double for both of them.

Eleanor didn't mind too much, though she certainly missed their family dinners. She got to spend more time with her friends and her mother instead - who had taken to stress baking in between organising her classes for the next semester to deal with his long absences. She was even gardening, _gardening_ , her mother who had whatever was the opposite of a green thumb

**~ * ~**

She waved her hand as her friends rode off down the empty street on their bikes, trilling their bells as they went. It had been a fun afternoon spent laughing and gossiping and trying to outdo each other in fantastical stunts in her backyard, but now she was tired.

Juliana and the others were some of the loudest, wildest girls she had ever met and some of the kindest - girls Eleanor was quite proud to call her friends. And as she stood there - on her front lawn, arms clasped behind her, her head thrumming with a low headache from the laughter, a dopey smile on her face - she came to the conclusion that nothing could ruin her day.

Until a high pitched, familiar voice screamed her name out in a frantic fashion.

She whirled around, eyes wide as she tried to find the source. And then a weight slammed into her middle and she went crashing back into their badly manicured front lawn.

The weight on top of her shifted and it took her a solid moment to realise it was John, his face wet with tears, grasping at her clothes like they were his lifeline.

"Eleanor!" he cried out again, burying his face into her stomach, a loud, ugly sob escaping him.

"John! What happened?"

"Jake! He's leaving! He's leaving again!"

"What?" she asked intelligently, her mind struggling to catch up.

"Army," John wailed, "Jake is leaving us for the army! I don't want him to go!"

He let out another hideous noise and tried to burrow his himself into Eleanor, as if it would take the hurt away.

It was a difficult predicament. On one hand Eleanor wanted to comfort John, on the other she wanted to get up. Somehow laying, splayed out on her front lawn, lump rocks digging into her back and thighs, somehow didn't seem like a good look. Regardless, the immediate need to comfort John trumped up propriety and Eleanor wrapped her arms around him as best as she could, hugging him tight. He had become very affectionate of late, always throwing himself (quite literally) at her into hugs and wrapping himself around her as if he was more octopus than boy.

"John," she said, pitching her voice low and soothing like her own mother would, "he'll be okay. You knew he was going. Besides, he's not going to be gone forever, he'll come back."

"Dad said he should just die - that if he wanted to go so bad he shouldn't come back at all!"

Eleanor winced, staring up at a lazy cloud that drifted by as she tried to find some words of comfort, "Your dad didn't _mean_ that." _Probably_. "Come on, come inside."

John shook his head and held on tighter.

She sighed, rubbing a hand up and down his back.

"John," she said again, "I'm starting to cramp up. There are rocks digging into my back. Come on, come inside for a sec, you need to drink some water and I need to change my shirt."

John didn't openly agree to it, but he didn't hinder her movement as she readjusted their positions and hauled him to his feet once she had gotten to her own. He was still crying, not as badly as he had been, though he continued to whine and sniff pitifully.

What was it with the Seeds and looking like kicked puppies? Eleanor's heart could only take so much.

Her mother fretted when Eleanor came inside, John in tow, and she assessed the situation. Took stock of his puffy eyes, his bright red nose, the grass stains on the back of Eleanor's favourite boy band t-shirt and shorts. She sent Eleanor a look.

"Jacob is joining the army," Eleanor replied, as her mother wrapped John in a hug and cooed and brushed at his hair, just like she would when Eleanor was a kid and had a particularly nasty bruise from a ridiculous stunt. John lost himself in the hug, his whining stopping as he hugged back. Eleanor's mother gave the very best hugs, and John needed the best desperately.

"Poor thing, oh, it'll be alright, John, dear. Here, Ellie, have John sit in the living room and I'll bring some nice warm milk and cookies. Would you like that, John? Oh, you're practically bones of course you want some." She moved a step back to see John's expression.

Eleanor perked up despite the situation, "Can I have some too?"

He nodded, watery eyed and miserable, and her mother gave him another tight squeeze before letting him go. John leaned back and rested his weight against Eleanor, whose hands automatically rested on his shoulders, squeezing them in a silent show of strength.

"Is your older brother joining the army?"

Eleanor huffed out and dragged John away into the living room. She set him down on the big leather sofa and plopped herself onto the sturdy, wooden coffee table. Cabin and real estate magazines poked at her leg but she ignored it and leaned forward, tilting her head and sending John a small smile. John had almost calmed, only the occasional hiccup and silent tears remained.

"Jacob isn't going to leave you, John, he'll be back, you'll see."

"How do you know that?" He mumbled, staring at the dark, shaggy carpet that the coffee table rested on.

She found she wanted to hug him again and did so, moving to his right and letting him hide his face in her neck. She'd really need to change the shirt once John was gone - there was probably so much snot and tears-

"Because we're going to make sure he does."

He sniffled, "How?"

That was a good question, one she wasn't too sure about either. The words had slipped out of her mouth automatically and now she was only sort of regretting it. Making stuff up on the spot was like acting, and Eleanor couldn't act. Lying too, especially with her mother's eagle eye and preternatural ability to smell out falsehoods.

"We could," she said, dragging the words out as she cast a desperate look around the room for inspiration. She was glad John's face was hidden, and he couldn't see the mounting panic on her face.

And then she caught sight of her father's wartime trinket. He hadn't wanted to go, he had told Eleanor, but he had to - his father had and he couldn't let his father go alone. It was a pocket Bible that had caught a bullet for him, the front of the dark, leather back had been manipulated where the bullet hit and rendered it unreadable, but her father kept it. As a reminder, he had said, but never deigned to explain further. 

"We could make him a good luck charm!"

"A what?"

Eleanor pulled away, excitement steadily building as her mind whirred away at the possibilities. Her mother returned with a glass full of warm milk and a plate heaped with chocolate cookies. She cast a weary direction Eleanor's way and raised a brow at her massive smile.

"A good luck token, or a charm, or - _you know_."

Her mother took the other spot next to John and place a hand on his shoulder, a kind, motherly look on her face as she understood where Eleanor's train of thought had gone, "Have you heard of horseshoes or four-leaved clovers, John?"

He sniffed, "Um, I think so? Are they like a lucky pair of underwear?"

"Sure," Eleanor nodded away, "Yeah, like that. When does Jacob leave?"

John's brows crinkled in thought and he looked uncertain.

"He has to give some test first and then he said he can apply. I think, um. But he said he gave the test today, so - I-I don't know."

"That means he's probably got about a week before he goes in for his health check," Her mother told them, offering John a cookie, "depending on if he passes or not. Maybe two weeks at the very most."

"Okay, okay, okay, okay we can work with that. We'll get his trinket ready before then. And you'll be the one making it, John."

"Me?" he asked, mouth stuffed full of cookie.

"Of course! It won't do if you just _buy_ it. Good luck charms like these, they have to come from the heart. With love and stuff like that." Her mother sent her an unimpressed look. It didn't matter. Eleanor wasn't the smoothest with words but John was a kid and complained that girls his age had cooties, so it didn't exactly matter how articulate she was, "That Bible that saved Dad's life - his mother gave it to him before he went. She used to read it every night. God, look at your face - you don't have to look so scared! Don't worry, I'll help you."

"What would we make though?"

Her mother said nothing, letting Eleanor mull over it herself.

"Uh, does he liked horses? Maybe we could give him a horseshoe."

"Jake likes animals, but he only really loves dogs. And cats, sometimes. Oh, but he really likes to eat rabbit! He camps in the forest sometimes and catches them. He brings some back sometimes for Joe and me to eat." He wrinkled his nose, clutching at his cookie tightly, "I don't like it when the bunnies are all bloody, but Jake says it's important I learn this stuff from now or something."

"Rabbit's foot then," Eleanor replied thinly.

"Earl would probably be able to help you," her mother said, picking up the empty glass of milk and rising, "He seems the sort who'd know things like this. And if he doesn't, your father would be more than happy to help if he's free. Would you like me to ask them?"

"Yes, please!"

Her mother nodded and left them.

"Will we have to kill a rabbit for it?"

John looked worried and Eleanor didn't blame him. The idea of killing an animals wasn't something she liked to even consider - visiting the butcher with her mother left her a bit queasy sometimes, she couldn't fathom killing an animal herself. 

"Maybe convince Jacob to go hunting again and sneak a foot back."

John nodded, as if that was the easy part, before his mouth turned down in concern again, "Will he like it?"

"If you make it John, I know he'll love it."

"I don't want Jake to go away. Dad and Mom were really mad when he went away the first time and they won't like it if he goes away again."

"When he went to Juvie?" Eleanor tried to nonchalance and if John wasn't a child, she knew he would have been able to see through instantly. John thankfully, _was_ a child and even though he was an intelligent one, he was still a kid.

"How did you know?"

"My dad found out and told me. It's why I wasn't - uh, why I'm _not_ technically allowed to play with you anymore."

Eleanor had to be careful. Her mother knew that she stilled played with him, but it was a sort of open-secret that neither of them acknowledged and she didn't want to press her luck.

"Jake didn't do it on purpose! It was an accident, but Dad and Mom wouldn't listen! When the cops came they blamed him. They said Joe and I weren't supposed to say a word otherwise they'd get really, _really_ angry and Jake said the same thing and then they took him away."

That sounded... like it wasn't right.

"Are you okay now, John?" her mother asked, poking her head in from the kitchen for a quick moment, "I phoned your brother and he's on his way to pick you up."

"Is it Jake?"

"It's Joseph."

"Oh, okay. Um, thank you, Mrs Rook."

Her mother shot them a quick, parting, strained smile, and ducked back into the kitchen. The delicious smell wafting from the kitchen didn't do anything to mitigate the growing weight in Eleanor's stomach or the tingling beginning at the very tips of her fingers.

Why would the seeds blame their own kid? Especially if it was an accident? Maybe it really was Jacob's fault and John's adoration for him twisted what had happened? The more Eleanor learnt about the three brothers, the more questions she ended up asking herself.

"Remember to get the foot as quickly as possible," She said distractedly, "I don't know how long it'll take for us to make it, and if you can give it to him early that'll be even better."

"I'll remember."

He hugged her then. And for a moment, Eleanor was too preoccupied to hug him back. But before he could get too worried, she snapped back into the present and wrapped her arms robotically around him.

"Thanks Ellie."

"That's what friends are for, John."

"And we'll be friends forever, right? You said so."

"Yeah, John," The words sounded hollow even to her, "I did."

"And you won't break your promise this time?"

She ruffled his hair, and moved out of the hug.

"Yeah, I won't."

**~ * ~**

Eleanor passed the money over to the cashier and took a tentative lick of her ice cream. Mint chocolate chip - the best ice cream flavour, and Eleanor would die on that hill.

Content with her choice, she took a seat in one of the vacant booths set facing the door and floor-to-ceiling windows and began to absentmindedly people-watch as she ate.

It was a hot day and her mother had given her some change with the express instructions that she was to return home on time. Not that Eleanor had planned on staying out for very long. Her friends were busy and Earl and her father were stuck cracking a difficult case about a murder in a motel just out of town. The ice cream thing was just to get a change of pace, she’d probably just go back home and watch TV again - there was probably some trashy reality TV show she could numb her mind with for an hour or two.

The bell above the door jangled and Eleanor blinked, taking in the new entrants. John and Jacob Seed. She blinked again, in surprise, taking in first one and then the other. They never came by here, Eleanor would know, this was her absolute favourite ice cream shop and she made a stop more often than not. The staff had her order _memorised_.

Jacob had a light bruise on his cheek and his lip was split. Maybe getting ready for the army really was that tough, Eleanor tried to rationalise with some mounting discomfort. Her father got hurt a few times while at work and wasn’t the physical aspect of the army harder or something?

Before she could decide if she wanted them to notice her or not, John had spotted her and detached himself from his brother’s side, bounding over towards her like an excitable puppy. He’d probably have thrown himself at her if it wasn’t for the table. Which Eleanor was glad for, because she really did want to eat her ice cream without fearing for its safety.

“Ellie!” he exclaimed, a look of boyish glee on his face as he beamed up at her, “You came to get ice cream too?”

“I - uh, yeah. Hi, John… hi, Jacob.”

The eldest Seed barely gave her a passing notice as he turned to his brother.

“Leave her alone. Come on, what flavour do you want?”

“Rocky road.”

“It’s not a bother,” Eleanor said.

Jacob shifted those unnerving, cornflower blue eyes of his from his brother onto her. And then he rolled them and turned on his heel to get their order sorted. John, whose smile had grown impossibly larger, lunged into place across from her and slid onto the bench, his short legs kicking the air - a good foot above the ground. Eleanor’s own just about touched it, which had been an achievement she had been proud of when she was younger.

“Jacob wanted to take me to an ice cream shop, just the two of us! I always wanted to try this place - the logo is so cool. I didn’t know you came here too.”

“That was nice of him, and yeah, I love this place. It’s so hot today and I didn’t really have anything else to do so I thought I’d kill some time here.”

“It is! Mom gets really angry when it gets too hot. Joe always tells me to play outside when she does - but it was too hot for that so Jake said we should go for ice cream.”

“What about Joseph?”

“He’s got his part time job at some bookstore, so he couldn’t come.”

“That’s a shame, Joseph is a lot of fun,” and could probably ease the tension that seemed to be there whenever Jacob was around, “You’ve got good brothers, John.”

Even if Jacob was an _ass_. At least he was good to John.

He nodded enthusiastically, pride radiating off of him as he puffed out his chest, “They’re the greatest! Except when they’re mean to me.”

She shrugged, an easy smile slipping onto her face as she licked at her ice cream, “That comes with older siblings. I always wanted one myself - an older sibling that is. Maybe a sister.”

“They’re fun, but they can be so _annoying_ sometimes too - especially when they start fights with Mom and Dad and Dad calls them bad things and he takes out the -”

“John. Enough.”

Eleanor leapt in her skin. She hadn’t heard Jacob approach. But there he was, six feet of pure malice and menace. And even with an ice cream cup in one hand and a cone in the other, the narrow-eyed glare he sent them both didn’t diminish.

“Scoot over,” he commanded, and John obeyed easily, reaching out for his cup before Jacob was even properly settled, “You blabber about everything to everyone?”

“Only Ellie cause she’s my best friend. I’m great at keeping secrets.”

Eleanor wished John hadn’t dragged her into it, because the look Jacob shot her way sent a dagger of fear straight down her spine.

“Well, let’s just hope you don’t tell _Ellie_ more than she needs to know. Secrets don’t stay secrets if the whole world knows.”

“Ellie is right here and she can hear you,” Eleanor said, “Loud and clear.”

Her father said never to bow down to bullies - that it only made it worse. And Jacob Seed seemed like the worst type of bully.

He raised a brow and settled back into his seat. John noticed the tension and began to talk to try and dispel it.

“Hey, Eleanor, did you know? Jacob got accepted! He got full marks on the test and his in-struct-tor hadn’t seen anyone get such high grades before!”

Jacob groaned and nudged at his brother with his elbow, licking at his Cookie and Cream in between, “How about we stop talking about me, huh?”

“But I want Eleanor to know! You’re always so mean to her but I want her to know you can be cool too.”

“ _Eleanor_ is fine. Seriously,” She sent John a smile, “How about you tell me how your summer break has been going. Did you get any fun projects? We just got a lot of boring homework.”

“It’s great and we got so much fun stuff! Your mom is so cool, Ellie, and she’s always really nice to me. She says I have great,” he paused for a moment as he tried to recall the word, “Comprehensive skills. Yeah.”

And that’s how she spent the next half hour. John chattered on about anything and everything under the sun from the new TV show that was all the rage amongst kids about some transforming robots to how the other kids were starting to play with him more. The black plane she had given him as a birthday gift had won him over some friends, it seemed. 

Eleanor listened and made the appropriate noises when needed between bits of her ice cream. Jacob meanwhile spent the entire time watching them and surveying the surrounding area as he ate his own, his gaze hawkish and attention unnerving.

Any time those heavy eyes landed on her and he scrutinised her like she was some microbe between glass slides, she wished he would look away, that he would disappear. But then something else would catch his gaze and he’d try to mentally pick it apart. By the end, Eleanor found it easier to pretend like he wasn’t there. And considering how quiet he was, at times she almost succeeded.

When their ice cream was finished and the rush in the ice cream parlour grew worse, it was Jacob who suggested they head home together.

“You’re not doing anything else, right.”

It wasn’t a question, Eleanor understood that.

“No,” she said, “I’m not.”

They walked together. John raced ahead of them, turning back occasionally to pull faces and taunt them for being too slow. Jacob didn’t answer and instead smoked a steady stream of cigarettes, leaving Eleanor to call back replies and encouragement as John hopped from one crack in the pavement to the other, singing silly, childish nursery rhymes to himself as he went.

“So you’re really going?”

“What’s it to you?”

She glanced over at him, “John came to our house crying last week. Because he was worried that you would go away again and never come back.”

“He’s melodramatic.”

“He said your dad told you to ‘die’ while you were serving?”

Jacob crushed the cigarette between his fingers. He threw it away.

“That isn’t any of your business.”

His tone was dark. Dangerous. ‘Tread no further’. Too bad Eleanor didn’t care. She had questions and she wanted them answered. Her curiosity, as her mother would say, would be the death of someone.

Eleanor stopped dead in the street and faced him. Jacob obliged her, his hands stuffed in his jean pockets as he stared down at her. It was discouraging, their height difference. Eleanor knew she had a few inches to grow yet, but she also knew she wouldn’t grow as tall as him.

“Is there something going on with your parents? You already know, but my dad _is_ a police officer and he can help you guys if anything is-”

“Don’t stick your nose into other people’s business, Rook. You might end up losing it.” His voice was soft. But there was a very real edge to it. She was on thin ice and it was only going to get thinner.

“If there are problems in your house how are you going to solve them when you’re stationed somewhere else? Also, how did you get those bruises, Jacob? Was it from training for the army? Or something else? Someone else?”

He snarled down at her, moving into her personal space so she had to crane her neck all the way just to face him properly. Her heart hammered in her throat and every nerve in her body thrummed with the need to _run_.

“Keep your mouth _shut_. Don’t you _dare_ bring this up in front of John, do you hear me? If I find out you’ve been trying to dig up sit about my family, I don’t care where I’m posted, I’ll come and kick your ass. Do you hear me?”

“Don’t you _care_? If it’s a real problem, how can you even say _any_ of this?”

“I care more about my brothers than you could ever _imagine_. I’ve been all they’ve had for a very long time, so don’t you _dare_ try to fuckin’ lecture me on how to look out for _my_ brothers, you brat.”

Tears threatened to spill but she held her ground, “You are an _asshole_.”

He grinned, all teeth, “I can be so much worse. So don’t _test_ me.”

“Jake? Ellie? Are you guys fighting?”

And like a spell had been broken, the tension evaporated. Jacob took a step away from her, and stalked ahead, ruffling John’s hair as he passed. Leaving Eleanor to deal with damage control. It took her a moment of deep breathing to wrangle her heart under control and force the tears back before she aimed a weak smile his way.

“No, we weren’t. We were just having a sort of disagreement. By the way, I couldn’t say it because he was around, but Uncle Earl says the rabbit foot is almost done and we can go and pick it up tomorrow. Think you can squeeze out some time and we can go pay him a visit together?”

John let out a noise of delight, “It’s really ready?”

“Yeah. Turns out it didn’t need more than a few days. Uncle Earl says you can cap it and stuff yourself too, he’s got all the tools and some trinkets you can use so the rabbit’s foot can be customised how you want it. Jacob is leaving the day after tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you can give it to him just in the nick of time.”

“I can’t wait to see what Jacob thinks! I made it myself and it’s going to keep him safe!”

Even if he was a jerk to _her_ it was clear to see that he was good to his brothers. Eleanor couldn’t deny that even if she wanted to.

“I’m sure he’ll love it.”

“Really?”

“I _know_ he will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jacob is actually probably the hardest character for me to write because he just seems like the "strong silent" type which is BS considering how much he drones on and on in the game, but dogmatic spiels don't translate too well when you're a twenty-something year old.
> 
> I hope you guys liked it, I can't wait to start writing all of them once they've aged up some and gone a little, um, _eccentric_.


	9. We'll Meet Again Someday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More crying.  
> Yay.  
> I hate writing crying scenes but I somehow always end up making my characters sad, I don't know what it is. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy!

_This wasn’t supposed to happen._

Eleanor rode her bike hard down the streets, green and blue ribbons whipping in the wind, the air buffeting against her face, her legs burning as she kept up a break-neck pace all the way.

_It wasn’t real, it couldn’t be real._

Her lungs squeezed around her heart until everything inside of her hurt. The chemicals in her brain shot mad, panicked signals everywhere until the noises were distorted and Eleanor’s field of vision narrowed to the cracked pavement in front of her and the wide board for the police precinct only a few blocks away. Her waning speed picked up. 

_It was just a bad joke. Her mother was just playing a bad joke._

Sweat dripped down her brow and into her eyes. She shook her head, panting, loud and harsh. She was so close. Eleanor was so close!

_It wasn’t supposed to be like this!_

Eleanor leapt off her bike when she got close enough, some distant, quiet part of her grimacing when it crashed and skidded to a halt. 

Unlike in movies, Eleanor didn’t burst into the precinct, slamming the doors against the walls. Though, it would be more accurate to say she couldn’t. People were also going in and out with a myriad of different emotions she couldn’t internalise and conceptualise so instead she ducked and swerved and navigated with a speed and grace she never realised she possessed into the deeper bowels of the precinct.

It was near full capacity as always. It wasn’t a happening town but trouble was always brewing. Her father’s desk wasn’t hard to reach, even amidst the sea of limbs and heads and voices and noises.

Earl Whitehorse, thinner and aged, was writing out a report. In the uncomfortable plastic chair Eleanor would sit in sometimes while she waited for her father to finish up with work, Joseph and John Seed sat with their backs to her. John was crying into his brother’s shoulder, a large, wet patch showing up prominently in the material of his long-sleeved, light green shirt. Eleanor knew, she always _knew_ it was suspicious that he would wear long, baggy clothes all the time but she never pushed. She _never_ -

Eleanor didn’t want them to turn around and see her, was far too worried what expression they would have if they did. But she knew that sagged set of Joseph’s shoulders, could imagine John’s face - ruddy with tears as it so often was over the past few weeks. 

Earl spotted her and his sombre expression seemed to fall even further. He turned to an unfamiliar officer that was passing by and whispered something, before handing him the papers and patting Joseph on the shoulder. He made his way towards her, blocking her view of Joseph and John.

“What happened?” Eleanor whispered when he got close, “Uncle Earl, I know them, you _know_ I know them - what _happened_?”

Earl put a hand on her shoulder, squeezed once in a silent show of comfort and turned her around, steering her away from the boys and towards the glass door of the breakroom. When she tried to speak, to ask more questions, he just shook his head. The break room was simple and plain and Eleanor couldn’t be bothered to look at it carefully when all she wanted was answers. Answers she had previously not cared enough to find out.

Guilt stabbed through her, sharp as a knife.

Earl closed the glass door, and the noise with it, and forced her into a seat. It was plastic and hard and Eleanor took a deep, shaky breath in to push back her mounting nausea while Earl bustled around, quietly filling a mug with cold water from a cooler. He set it before her. It was bright yellow and had some ridiculous dad joke on it - it probably belonged to one of the other officers.

Eleanor took the cup and drank gladly, the manic bike ride had left her far more parched than she realised.

“Those kids,” Earl began, voice quiet, gaze turned down at the wooden kitchen table between them, following the pattern of the grains with his dull green eyes, his accent getting thicker with each word, “Their parents beat them. Regularly. Today, the youngest one was found with bruises by his teacher - yer mother. She called us up an’ Joseph told us everything.”

Her grip tightened around the yellow mug and it’s stupid joke.

“I-I didn’t know.”

Earl sent her a kind smile.

“I know. Like I said, Joseph told us everything. They kept it a secret, those brothers. John apparently didn’t get hit much - or ever, if Joseph’s account is to be believed. The other two would take the fall for him. But this time, they couldn’t.”

The mug shook, the dregs of water remaining sloshed around. Eleanor set the mug down carefully on the table and clasped her hands together. They were so cold. But the rest of her felt so very warm. Why was it getting so hot?

“I knew something was wrong. I just didn’t - I just didn’t think it was _that_.”

“I know, Chickadee, I know. And no one blames you, do you understand? Absolutely no one blames you and you shouldn’t blame yourself. There are only two villains in this story and you aren’t either one of them. Okay?”

Eleanor wasn’t quite sure about that. If she had plucked up the courage and just _forced_ Jacob to tell her, face him properly that day, maybe she could have had a very real breakthrough. Or if she had just tried to talk about it with Joseph or John - they weren’t like Jacob, they would talk to her.

“Is-” Her throat closed up and Eleanor had to clear it once, twice, three times before she found her voice again, “Is - are they - what’s going to happen now?”

Earl let out a quiet sigh and settled back against his chair. He had grown a lot more white in his hair, Eleanor realised suddenly, and it was beginning to thin around his temples. She had been so preoccupied with herself, she hadn’t even taken stock of the people around her. His mother’s death had hit him hard, she knew that, had heard her mother and father say so so often she believed that to be the only truth. He was certainly getting better - _doing_ better considering he was at work instead of holing away somewhere.

“Well,” he began after a long moment of thought, “After we finish getting Joseph’s statement, we’re going to try and contact the eldest brother.”

“Jacob. But he’s in the army. He passed all their tests and they posted him somewhere a week back.”

To think less than two months back, they had been bickering over this very outcome. And he hadn’t listened to her.

Earl nodded, “Yes, he is. Well, we’re going to try and get his statement. After that we’re going to take them to court and charge the Seeds with anything that sticks to keep them in for as long as possible. Jacob isn’t a minor, but the other two are and they’ll be put in a foster home for now. If everything goes according to plan. But with what Joseph’s telling us along with all the - uh, _physical_ evidence, stuff should stick.”

“Will they go somewhere together? Because John - he needs to stay with his brothers. He’s a smart kid, Uncle Earl but he’s really sensitive. He loves his brothers so much - he has to stay with Joseph.”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t tell you what or how they’ll be moved, Chickadee. That depends entirely on what their social workers think is best for them.”

Eleanor didn’t like it but she nodded and gazed down at her hands. They were shaking so bad. That didn’t make sense. None of this was happening to _her_. They sat there in silence for a moment, both lost in thought.

“Where’s Dad?” 

“He’s gone to get her parents. I think you should head home for now, Chickadee. Nothing good is going to come out of sticking around.”

“Will I ever be able to see them again?”

Earl looked forlorn as he shook his head and Eleanor dropped her gaze away from his.

“Probably not. They don’t normally let children who go through the sort of trauma they do stay in the same area. Because of other kids and -well, just a whole bunch of other things really.”

“If I can’t see them after this, can I at least see them now?” her voice came out so small she almost didn’t recognise it.

“I don’t know if that’s such a good-”

“Please,” Eleanor grit out, “I just want to say goodbye.”

It only took a few seconds of silent pleading before Earl cracked. He got to his feet and led the way back into the bull-pit. The officer who had been taking their statement caught sight of Earl and got up and left. Leaving Joseph and John.

Joseph noticed her this time, his blue eyes tired and lacking their usual, kind glimmer. His face was so badly bruised he barely had normal skin and his right eye was swollen almost shut. He turned his face away from her as he whispered something into John’s ear. John was in the same position he had been when Eleanor left, wrapped around his brother, his face tucked into his brother’s neck as he hid away from the world.

Joseph whispered again, the words cracked and jagged like broken glass. Nothing like the soft, smooth, soothing timber she so often associated with him. John shook his head and held on tighter. Joseph closed his eyes and sighed. When he opened them and looked at Eleanor, her breath left her.

His eyes were glazed and his face was pale. His mouth was a thin, white line. The veins of his arms, the arms he had wrapped tightly around his brother, stood stark and blue against his thin, translucent, papery skin. He didn’t look human. Didn’t look alive.

“John,” Joseph whispered again, louder this time, his voice shaking with desperation, “Come on, please. It’s Eleanor. Your friend. It’s _Ellie_.”

His voice broke and he slammed his mouth shut. His chin trembled as he forced himself to keep his composure for his brother’s sake. 

John moved then. Slowly, he extracted himself from the safety of his brother’s arms and turned to look at Eleanor. She scanned his face quickly and a flood of relief washed over her when she saw he didn’t have any bruises. But when her eyes ventured down to his arms, her heart seized. A mottling of blues and yellows and purples painted the skin around his wrists and forearm like some morbid artistic painting. They had been hidden while he tucked himself away and Eleanor wished she hadn’t seen them.

“I’m so sorry,” She found herself saying as she lowered herself down to John’s eye level.

John got off of his brother’s lap and moved towards her. Earl murmured something to Joseph, who nodded and got up, awkward and stiff, before following after him.

Eleanor held John close. His heart beat parallel to her own. So small and fragile and quiet it scared her.

“I didn’t know,” she told him, “I’m so sorry, John. I didn’t know.”

John said nothing as he sniffled into her shoulder, silent tears wetting her shirt. Eleanor herself was struggling to keep it together. And when Earl and Joseph returned, she let John go and slowly got to her feet.

Eleanor turned to Joseph. He had a mug of water in his hands. She hugged him, and his long, thin arms held her for a brief moment before he extracted himself out.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” she repeated, hoping that if she said it enough times it would really become true.

Joseph nodded, thin and weak but it looked like it hurt him to do so. He did it anyway. To placate her when it wasn’t even his place. 

“Thank you for being a good friend to John through it all, and to me, and for everything else - the gifts, the help, the kind words. Jacob told me that you worried for us, that you wanted to help. I… am also sorry.”

Earl wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she cast one last look at John. Joseph got him to sit in the chair and held the mug to his lips, speaking softly as John drank. She remembered a day right after Christmas when he had done the very same. John was always crying, he felt too much. 

There was nothing more she could say or do that wouldn’t end up sounding like she was a broken recorder. But Eleanor couldn’t say goodbye. Not like this. Not when she wouldn’t see them the next day at school or on their street or in the park. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. The Seeds were supposed to be weird but _okay_. 

They were supposed to become even better friends as they got older. She would be John’s best friend and teach him how to navigate school and life and Joseph would mentor her through the topsy-turvy world of high school and Jacob would swing by every now and again and glower and gripe but they’d have a rough idea of a friendship of their own and nothing was happening how she wanted it to - _nothing_!

“Come on, Chickadee, time to go.”

Joseph turned to look at her one last time. A faraway, misty look settling over his eyes.

The word was lodged in her throat. She forced it out.

“Goodbye.”

Joseph shook his head, his voice calmer, softer, “We will meet again someday, Eleanor.”

“I hope so - God, I hope so.”

“We will. Don’t worry. When you least expect it, all four of us will be reunited.”

Earl murmured and Eleanor moved then. He walked her out of the bull-pit, out of the precinct and towards the police car park. Earl doubled back to grab her bike when she mentioned it and he loaded it into a spare cop car before helping her into the passenger side. One of the handlebars on the bike was a bit crooked but Earl promised her he’d fix it when he got some free time. They strapped in and sat there for a moment in the silence. Eleanor couldn’t stop staring at her hands.

“How can you and dad do it?”

Earl didn’t need to be told what “it” was.

“This is the hardest part of the job, kid, I won’t lie. And there are times where even grown men like your dad and I break. But you wanna know what makes it all worth it?”

He was silent and Eleanor moved her listless gaze from her hands to her father’s partner. To the man she now saw as a second father.

“What?”

“When we can put the bad guys behind bars. Because we can be the heroes to the people who need us to be the most. And there is no greater feeling in the world, Eleanor, than being wanted. It’s what keeps your dad and me and - hell - most other good, honest cops here going even through the worst times.”

Eleanor considered it.

“And when you can’t be the hero? When the ‘bad guys’ get away?”

“Then we work double as hard to make sure the next bastard doesn’t.”

“I wanted to become a cop like my dad,” she curled her hands into fists,” but I don’t know if I could be strong like he is, especially through the worst of it.”

Earl hummed.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret. Your dad just pretends he’s all big and tough. You should know that better than any of us. He just doesn't want anyone to know, but each and every case we have gets to him. I caught him crying one and he swore at me and kept saying it was dust in his eyes. Ah, point is, your old man likes to pretend he’s tough as nails, kid, but no one is unfeeling. And if they are, if the shit we see doesn’t make them break down and cry even _once_ , they aren’t human, plain and simple.”

“How does he work through it though? When I get sad I can’t do anything. I just want to stay where I am and curl up.”

“That’s just something you learn. Curling up is a perfectly respectable way to deal with things, we do it sometimes too. The way your dad learnt to deal with it is to double down and work twice - _thrice_ as hard to get justice. Your old man can be a real asshole, but he knows right from wrong and he will fight to keep that balance. Something I see in you too, kid.”

Eleanor squeezed her hands tightly together.

“I want justice. For John and Joseph.” She said, her voice soft but firm, “And even for Jacob. No one deserves that.”

“And we won’t rest until they get it, Chickadee. That’s a promise.”

Earl keyed the car into life and shifted the gear into drive. As they left the precinct car park and began on the road towards her house, Eleanor glanced into the side-view mirror to catch one last glance of the precinct as it retreated from view.

She would meet them again one day, Eleanor thought, and when she did, she would make things right. That was a promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of part 1.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed it, I know I had a ton of fun writing it. Part 2 is all ready and just needs to be rewritten and edited and some parts of part 3 have been written out, a lot of it is just some scrawled out bullet points but I should be able to get all of them out on a regular schedule.


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